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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632766">Simplicity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuidore/pseuds/kuidore'>kuidore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Akaashi Keiji doesnt know how to deal with feelings, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Bokuto rlly wants a pet owl okay, Drinking Games, Established BoKurooKen, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hangover, Hurt/Comfort, Improper use of Flour, M/M, Marijuana, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Polyamory, Rating May Change, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Slow Build, Smoking, Strangers to Friends, Swearing, They’re all in their early twenties, Vomiting, Writer!Akaashi, a lot of swearing, didn't think that was a tag id ever use, groupchat antics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:33:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>79,654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuidore/pseuds/kuidore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi’s life was simple.<br/>It wasn’t boring; not to him at least. But it was simple, nice, calm. Making the decision to move to the city would definitely disrupt his routine for a few days, but he was sure that he’d settle back into it fairly quickly.  Not much would change with the move; the only difference was that he would now be doing it in a cramped apartment in Tokyo instead of his university dorm. Akaashi’s life would be the same; simple, nice, calm.<br/>Yes, Akaashi’s life was simple. But it was also quite lonely.</p><p>AKA The one where Akaashi moves to the city searching for a job, but instead finds himself swept up in the lives of his odd neighbors.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>520</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi’s life was simple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t boring; not to him at least. But it was simple, nice, calm. Making the decision to move to the city would definitely disrupt his routine for a few days, but he was sure that he’d settle back into it fairly quickly. After all, he would still have his cat to greet him whenever he stepped into his apartment, brushing against his legs in search of attention. He would still have his nights sat in front of his computer, staring at his half-finished novel until the light began to strain his eyes, fingers beginning to cramp as he edited what he already had to try and push away his writer's block. He would still have his sputtering coffee maker and chipped mugs. He would still have his cheesy k-dramas and western classical literature to fill his free time. Not much would change with the move; the only difference was that he would now be doing it in a cramped apartment in Tokyo instead of his university dorm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making the decision to move was definitely a risk; one Keiji had felt the need to take. Graduating from University with a degree in both film studies and creative writing wasn’t the best way to start his adult life, and he knew that he’d find no work in his rural Japanese town where the height of local culture was the graffitied swear words on the walls of the local high school. Not that his search for jobs relating to his degree in the city had been any more successful, but hey. At least in the city, he could maybe find publishers who were willing to stick their necks out for an unpublished writer fresh from University. Before that, he’d have to finish his book, but that was a problem that could wait. In the end, the only thing that would change with the move would be the scenery. Akaashi’s life would be the same; simple, nice, calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, Akaashi’s life was simple. But it was also quite lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He often reminded himself that there was a difference between being alone and being lonely. His entire life, he hadn’t done well with socializing. His dry humour, stoic demeanour, and his general dislike for wearing his emotions on his sleeve had given him a reputation as cold and uncaring. The reputation had stuck with him his entire life up to that point; the downside of small towns was the fact that you never really had the chance to make new first impressions. Even through University, Akaashi was surrounded by the same people he’d gone to elementary school with. It didn’t give him the chance to make new first impressions, or new friends. He’d found a few acquaintances, but none of them had been that close. After graduation, the extent of their interactions were limited to seeing each other's posts on social media.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, Akaashi liked being alone. At least, that’s what he told himself. He liked the peace and quiet, he liked being able to stay in his apartment and write without worry of anyone barging in or interrupting him with plans to hang out. But still, he wouldn’t have minded having friends. Because even though Akaashi liked being alone, he hated the feeling of being lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His GPS beeping pulled him out of his own head; somehow he’d managed to get to his new apartment complex without crashing, even when lost in thought. Getting caught up in his mind while driving was reckless and stupid, but he had left early and was tired. It was a miracle he hadn’t almost passed out at the wheel. With a soft sigh, he glanced at the building; it wasn’t directly in the centre of the city, so Akaashi wouldn’t bankrupt himself paying rent while looking for a job, but it was okay for his first apartment. The building didn’t look run down or like it was falling apart, and when he’d toured the apartment it seemed pretty nice for the price. Sure, it wasn’t a fancy modernist penthouse in the middle of Tokyo, but that wasn’t what Akaashi wanted anyways. He’d taken a look at some of the larger apartments in the complex, but he’d quickly turned them down in favour of a small studio that had just what he needed. The place was also pet friendly, thankfully; Akaashi really didn’t want to even try to convince his parents to keep Chieko at their place, and his sister was all the way in Kobe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost three in the afternoon by that point, and Akaashi stepped out of his car into the hot sun with a sigh. Despite the fact that it was September already, the summer heat hadn’t completely subsided. He just hoped that the apartment's air conditioning would be enough to keep him cool until it finally stopped lingering. He’d managed to stuff all his necessary belongings into the trunk and backseat of his beat up car, knowing he didn’t exactly have the money to spend on a uhaul when he had rent and student loans to pay. He hoped his savings could last him until he found a job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to move his things from his car and into his apartment without incident. Most people were working at that time anyways, and he didn’t run into a single neighbour as he lugged his boxes of belongings into the elevator. By the time he dropped the final box on the wooden floor of his apartment, he was sweating, and he was sure his face would be bright pink if he were to look in the mirror. Wiping his sweat away with his arm, Akaashi  wished that he had worn shorts instead of sweat pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi wanted more than anything to collapse on the couch (thankfully the apartment had come with its own furniture) and maybe take a shower, but he still had to go back down to park his car. He really didn’t want to be towed on his first day in the city. He could worry about unpacking later, all he really needed for tonight was his bedsheets and maybe his laptop, if he could muster up enough inspiration to write. Chieko had made herself comfortable the second Akaashi let her out of her travel crate, hopping up on the couch and curling herself up in the center cushion. He leaned down to scratch behind her ears before grabbing his car keys off the coffee table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped out of his apartment with a sigh, closing the door behind him without bothering to lock it. He’d be five minutes, maybe, and there was nothing in there worth stealing anyways. The street was still practically empty as he moved his car into the apartment complex’s parking lot, but when he stepped out of the elevator on his way back to his apartment, the hallway was not.</span>
</p><p><span>“What are you doing?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow as he approached his apartment, eyeing the man standing in front of his door with suspicion. The man practically jumped out of his skin, turning to stare at Akaashi with wide eyes. The stranger’s appearance was odd, to say the least. The first thing Akaashi had noticed was the hair; grey and black, spiked up into two horns. The wide golden eyes that settled on his face were also a little unnerving, as was the silence between them. It was as if the man was a deer in a pair of headlights, struck completely motionless. The next thing he noticed was his frame; he was about the same height as Akaashi, maybe an inch taller. The hair definitely made him look taller. And Akaashi could only hope the man was just a neighbour and not a burglar; from the look of his exposed arms, Keiji would be woefully outmatched in a fight. </span><em><span>He looks sort of like an owl…</span></em> <span>He took his attention away from the man’s look, realizing that they’d been sitting in silence for almost half a minute. When he received no answer to his initial question, Akaashi spoke again, “Were you trying to break into my apartment?”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” It seemed the man had regained his ability to speak, pulling away the hand that was positioned to knock as if the door had suddenly burned him, “No, no! Of course not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay..” Akaashi crossed his arms, “Can I go into my apartment, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Right, yeah, totally.” The man nodded, looking almost like a bobblehead. Despite his answer, he still didn’t move out of the way, “Sorry, I just came over to introduce myself! Yuka-san mentioned someone was gonna be moving in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yuka-san?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi attempted to remember who exactly that was; he hadn’t met any of the neighbours yet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, the landlady.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He remembered the kind-faced old woman introducing herself when Akaashi came to tour the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Bokuto Koutarou! I live in the apartment right beside yours,” The man - Bokuto - grinned widely, seemingly undeterred by Keiji’s silence. He held out a hand for Akaashi to shake, and he glanced at it curiously for a moment before taking it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi,” He introduced in a monotone voice. He realized that he was probably making a bad first impression on his neighbours, but he didn’t really care. All he wanted was his bed (or couch, depending on how willing he was to search through his boxes for his bedsheets). He could worry about being friendly later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi…?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, a grin still plastered on his face as he reached for a given name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi Keiji. Now if you don’t mind, I’m fairly tired and would like to get into my apartment, Bokuto-san.” He sighed out, knowing that refusing to give his first name would only prolong the conversation. He tacked the honorific onto the end of the man's name; even if he was tired and annoyed, he wasn’t an asshole, and he really didn’t want to be hated by the people in his apartment building so early on in his stay. He’d be stuck here for a while, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right! Shit, yea,” He laughed, stepping away from the door to give Akaashi the space to reach his door, “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Akaashi assured, reaching for his door and turning the knob.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know you shouldn’t leave your door unlocked. You never know what kinda weirdos might try to break in!” Bokuto called after Akaashi stepped into his apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the safety lesson, Bokuto-san, but so far it seems the only one to try and get into my apartment has been you.” Akaashi pointed out, looking over his shoulder in time to see Bokuto’s head tilt back in a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t trying to break in!” He assured, grin still spread across his face, “Anyways, it was nice meeting you. I’ll see you around, Akaashi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You as well,” was Keiji’s murmured response, before he shut (and locked) his apartment door, the sound of footsteps and another door slamming shut letting him know that Bokuto Koutarou had made his leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too loud...</span>
  </em>
  <span>was Akaashi’s first thought. Despite his lack of volume control, though, Bokuto seemed nice enough. It took either a lot of confidence, or an innate friendliness to almost barge into a strangers apartment the day they moved in. Akaashi got the feeling that Bokuto possessed both.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thoughts of his friendly neighbour dissipated quickly once Akaashi slipped off his shoes, immediately collapsing on the couch. He took special care to make sure his legs didn’t hit Chieko as he flopped on the slightly uncomfortable furniture, but he still caught sight of an almost offended look being thrown his way. Akaashi simply stared back at the cat, and a moment later she rose from her spot on the couch, seemingly taking extra care to step on each and every one of Keiji’s vital points on her journey to lay in the crook of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess that’s your revenge, huh?” He murmured, reaching a hand up to run his fingers through her short fur. All he got was a purr in response as she settled herself in her new position, blinking slowly at Akaashi before she closed her eyes. Keiji wasn’t far behind; it barely took a few minutes of relaxing before he was out like a light, the sound of Chieko’s purring lulling him to sleep.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The apartment was pitch black by the time Keiji finally woke up, and he blinked in confusion as his eyes slowly started to adjust to the lack of light. He barely managed to fumble around for his phone, letting out a groan when the bright light seared his corneas. He somehow managed to turn down the brightness, squinting at the clock.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>12:24am</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesus christ, had he really slept that long? By the time he’d gotten into his apartment after moving his things (and finishing the conversation with his lively neighbour), he assumed it was maybe 4pm at the latest. And somehow his quick nap had turned into a full eight and a half hours of sleep. Thanks to the light from his phone, as well as the feeling of Chieko walking across his vital points again to hop off the couch, he was almost fully awake. He managed to turn on his phone's flashlight, stumbling towards the wall until his fingers found the light switch and he flicked it on. His eyes took another second to adjust, and he let out a soft huff when he realized he hadn’t even started unpacking his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of his stomach growling interrupted his annoyance. Unpacking could wait; what he wanted right now was food. He vaguely remembered catching sight of a convenience store just down the street; his lack of groceries and the time left it as his only option, not that Keiji minded. He grew to quite like convenience store food, especially living as a college student with barely any money to his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji kept his footsteps quiet, trying to stop himself from waking the people in the apartment below as he padded over to his door. He was still in his wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, but he doubted he needed formal attire for a midnight convenience store run. He grabbed his keys, a jacket, and his wallet as he left, remembering Bokuto’s warning about locking his door when he stepped out of his apartment. As much as he doubted that anyone would attempt to break into an apartment complex like this, he still slid his key into the lock and turned until he heard a soft click.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Better safe than sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The hallway was deserted again, and Akaashi walked slowly towards the elevator, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as his stomach contracted painfully. All he’d gotten that day was a cup of coffee during his drive, and as someone who tried to regularly eat three meals a day, the lack of food was taking a toll on him. His exhaustion wasn’t helping; he wasn’t one to get much sleep in the first place, since inspiration tended to strike him late at night, but even by his standards he’d been sleeping very little over the past week. Whether it was the stress of upheaving his entire life and moving to the city, or the relief that he would finally be out of his hometown, Keiji wasn’t sure. He just knew he was going to need some time to recharge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a sigh of relief when he stepped out into the cool night air, taking a moment to let the cold wash over him. Even if the days were hot, the nights cooled down significantly. It was dark out, but with the streetlamps and all the lights still on in the apartment buildings around him, it wasn’t hard to see where he was going. The streets seemed deserted, thankfully, but Akaashi’s hand in his pocket still kept a tight hold on his pepper spray. He didn’t think anything would happen, but no one ever did, did they? Besides, Keiji had dealt with his fair share of experiences with disgusting men in university; it was a confrontation in which he’d managed to break his knuckle on one of his senior’s noses that had finally spurred him to splurge on some self-defense essentials.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, the walk to the convenience store was uneventful, the only sound coming from Keiji’s footsteps and the soft sound of a bell as he opened the door. It was completely deserted, save for a half-asleep employee behind the cash register. He shook his head slightly as he walked past the aisles of snack food in search of the back fridge, grabbing a small basket on his way. He didn’t feel like trying to juggle an armful of food. Keiji kneeled down beside the fridge, searching for something that looked half edible before settling for grabbing a handful of pre-packaged onigiri. He stopped as he passed by one of the back shelves, glancing at the assortment of instant noodle flavours they offered. He doubted he’d be in the mood to go grocery shopping tomorrow morning, so he figured it best to just buy something in advance for breakfast as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, are you shopping for a whole family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji jumped slightly at the sound of another voice, nearly dropping the cup noodle he was holding. He hadn’t even noticed the presence of another customer in the store, whipping his head around in the direction of the voice. After a moment he caught sight of its source, composing himself enough to hide his surprise. There was a tall man leaning against the back counter, brewing a cup of crappy convenience store coffee at the small machine. Somehow, despite the time, he looked wide awake. Then again, it really wasn’t that late; Keiji just felt tired because he’d just woken up barely ten minutes ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He answered curtly, turning his attention back to the shelf as he grabbed a few cups of instant noodles. Even with his short answer, Akaashi could feel the other man’s stare practically burning a hole into his skull, “Can I help you?” He grumbled, turning his head again to shoot an unimpressed glare at the other customer. Fuck being polite, especially when the man’s grey, unnervingly cat-like eyes were studying him as if he were some sort of science project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Just wondering why you’re stocking up on food like you’re preparing for an apocalypse,” The man retorted, shrugging his shoulders with an air of nonchalance that got on Akaashi’s nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hungry. Is that some sort of crime?” He retorted, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna eat all that yourself?” The man raised an eyebrow in return, seemingly challenging Akaashi. Normally, he was much too mature to engage in this sort of petty argument with strangers, but he was tired and hungry and a little cold. He didn’t feel like dealing with the judgement of a man who drank convenience store coffee and had hair that looked like a chicken had claimed territory on his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Akaashi retorted, tossing another cup noodle into his basket out of sheer spite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm..” The man let out a soft hum as he took his cup from beneath the machine, dumping way more sugar and cream than was healthy into the cup before putting on his lid, “That’s odd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So is striking up conversation with random strangers at a convenience store,” Akaashi retorted, looking in distaste at the coffee cup as the man took a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you’re still participating in the conversation, are you not?” The man grinned widely. Keiji was struck by the mental image of a large cat, baring its teeth as it crept towards its prey. The man seemed attractive in almost a dangerous way, but some part of their conversation led Akaashi to believe that the air of intimidation was nothing but a facade. After all, a man who drinks coffee with such an abysmal amount of sugar and cream and talks with random people in convenience stores couldn’t possibly seem too scary. With an eye roll he turned on his heel, walking towards the register and setting his basket down in front of the partially-awake cashier. He could’ve sworn he heard the soft sound of laughter following him as he paid for his food, walking out of the convenience store still hungry, and slightly irritated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought his walk back to his apartment would be just as peaceful as his walk to the convenience store, but fate proved him wrong. Only a minute or so after he’d left, the bedhead from before fell into step beside him, still holding that abomination of a coffee in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were silent for a moment, and Keiji wondered if now would be a good time to pull out his pepper spray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not following you, by the way,” Bedhead finally broke the silence, head tilted back to stare at the sky as they walked. Keiji didn’t understand why; the light pollution, even this far from the center of the city, made it almost impossible to see the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like something someone who was following me would say.” Akaashi retorted, keeping his gaze trained ahead. From the corner of his eye he watched Bedhead throw his head back, letting out a rather unattractive snort. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, the mysterious and intimidating thing was definitely an act....</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“My apartment complex is this way. Believe me, I wouldn’t be so obvious if I was trying to follow you,” The statement should have been concerning, and to an extent it was, but Akaashi was slightly comforted by the teasing tone on the man’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s nice to know. I guess I’ll be allowed to live through my first night in the city,” He deadpanned, dry sarcasm lacing his tone. His words only seemed to draw out another laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you really think I was gonna kill you? I’m a little hurt,” Bedhead put a hand over his heart, attempting to pout as his grin continued to get in the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, speaking to a random stranger at a convenience store and coincidentally having to walk home the same way as them seems like a plausible M.O.” Akaashi retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You raise a fair point. But I’m honestly not as scary as I look! I’m always kind, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s amusing that you think you look scary, but I doubt people who are truly kind have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> people how kind they are.” Akaashi glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. He seemed quite comfortable for someone who was randomly chatting up a stranger on his walk home. Akaashi wasn’t exactly comfortable per se, but he was a little less tense. He had to admit, not having to walk back to his apartment alone wasn’t exactly the worst thing that could have happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Bedhead may not be some crazy serial killer, he was definitely odd, Akaashi could say that for certain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked the rest of the way in silence, both coming to a stop in front of the same apartment complex. They eyed each other with suspicion for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You live here too?” Keiji raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems a little too convenient, huh?” Bedhead joked, “But yeah. I rent an apartment with a couple friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm..” Akaashi just let out a hum in response, before walking into the building. The cold air, as much as he preferred it to the afternoon heat, was starting to make his fingers numb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh? Wait up!” Bedhead jogged after him, slipping into the elevator just as the doors began to close, “You could’ve kept the doors open, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve lived on the ground floor, how was I supposed to know you needed the elevator?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. Both of their hands reached for the same button at the same time, “Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems so,” Bedhead let out a laugh, pressing the button before leaning against the wall of the elevator, “How long have you lived here? I’ve never seen you around the complex before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I moved in this morning.” Akaashi answered curtly. After all, Bedhead was apparently one of his neighbours (Keiji still wasn’t entirely sure if he should believe that).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.. Oh! Wait, I think Kou mentioned you. Akaashi, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t know whether to be creeped out at the fact that the bedhead apparently already knew his name, or to try and figure out who exactly ‘Kou’ was. The latter wasn’t hard; the nickname obviously was not referring to their landlady, and he’d only come into contact with one neighbour aside from Bedhead. For a second he wondered if the Bokuto man he’d met earlier was one of Bedhead's supposed roommates. It definitely made sense; the two of them seemed similar, even if Akaashi’s interactions with the two of them were quite limited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m Akaashi.” He nodded, stepping out of the elevator a moment later and walking towards his door. By now he was more than wide awake, and he figured he might be able to get some writing done once he finished his meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it was nice meeting ya, ‘Kaashi,” Bedhead grinned a bit, turning around to walk backwards as he passed Akaashi’s door. The nickname made his nose scrunch up slightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was everyone in this complex this overbearingly friendly? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t mind it, exactly, but it was… odd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m unsure if I can say the same to you,” was Keiji’s retort, and with that he slipped into his apartment, ignoring the offended cry that followed his words. He locked his door behind him, letting out a sigh as he walked towards the tiny kitchen to heat up his instant noodles. While he waited he peeled the plastic wrap off one of the onigiri, putting two of the cup noodles in the cupboard for whenever he decided to wake up tomorrow. Then again, he may not even get anymore sleep tonight, especially not after the odd encounter with his neighbour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only when Akaashi sat down on his couch, awkwardly blowing on his cup noodle so he didn’t burn himself, that he realized that Bedhead hadn’t told him his name.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My second multi-chapter fic! I've been wanting to write BokuAkaKuroKen for a while, I love their dynamics, and this lil cliche idea just kinda hit me the other day and struck me with some inspiration. This one is probably gonna be longer than #KurooStealsPants2k20, but I'm not even gonna try and guess at the length at this point.</p><p>I hope you guys enjoy the story, comments/kudos are always appreciated!</p><p>*Come yell at me on tumblr @Kuidore!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t sleep any more that night. Once he’d finished his meal and taken a shower, he’d dug through his boxes in search of his laptop, settling himself against the arm of the couch once he’d finally found the device and it’s charger. The slight stinging in his eyes came as a reminder that he’d passed out with his contacts in, and once he’d peeled them off his eyes and replaced them with his glasses, Keiji settled himself on the couch. He opened up the same half-empty document he’d been staring at for almost a week now, brows pinched together in frustration. It was a little after two by this point, and he was determined to get some fucking work done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's a first draft. All it has to do is exist.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was what Keiji always had to remind himself. A first draft didn’t have to be perfect, it could have spelling errors or plot holes or inconsistencies. All it had to do was exist, just to give him a starting point. A basic outline of the plot, but one that was a little more detailed than the messy brainstorming he’d done in his notebooks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that reminder fresh in his head, Keiji’s fingers began tapping on the keys, the silence in his apartment providing for a near-perfect working environment. He was barely halfway through the novel’s first draft, and he’d begun working on it during his last year of university, when inspiration had suddenly struck him hard enough to make him determined to publish this damn book. Sometimes he thought about writing down a strict itinerary, planning out when and how he’d write each scene, but Keiji’d tried that already. He’d drowned himself in online writing tips in the beginning, tired of hitting a wall and spending weeks wallowing in writer’s block. And as he looked for answers to his problems, he just kept seeing the same advice plastered everywhere. Avoid this, don’t do that, don’t let the reader guess where the plot is going to go. Don’t use these words, plan everything out to the comma, blah, blah, blah. It hadn’t gone well; all it did was make him more anxious, and in the end, the over-detailed planning actually hurt him more than it helped. If anything, it made his writer's block worse instead of helping it. He had his basic plot outline, and that was all he needed; he could figure out the details as he went. It felt much more natural that way, to let a story write itself instead of constantly curbing the developing plot to incite incidents that would lead to a predetermined ending. Sure, Keiji somewhat knew where the story was going, but he also had multiple endings he was willing to give a chance. In the end, it all came down to what was natural; he didn’t need a rigorous plan, he just needed the basics. From there he’d let the story come to an end on its own, in a way that felt logical.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, a plot twist for shocks sake never went over well in any form of media. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at Game of Thrones, after all.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Writing shouldn’t be stressful, or anxiety inducing. It should be for the benefit of the author, and if others enjoy it, well that was always a bonus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, when Akaashi’s entire future plans revolved around the idea of people liking his writing, the idea of writing only for himself was a little difficult to grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He barely noticed the amount of time that had passed, but suddenly he looked up from his computer screen to see light streaming through the window of his living room. When he glanced at the time, he couldn’t help the slightly triumphant smile that came to his face. It was nearing eight in the morning; around the time he’d normally get up if his nap yesterday hadn’t fucked up his sleep schedule. He’d been writing for almost six hours, with maybe a couple ten minute breaks to use the washroom or make himself a cup of coffee (which now sat abandoned, half finished, in the middle of his living room table). All throughout that time he hadn’t lost inspiration, he hadn’t felt the need to pull away and edit what he’d written. Maybe the new location really would do wonders for him after all; it had been years since he’d gotten that much work done in one sitting. He was still far from finished - after all, this was only his first draft - but it was enough to put a small smile on his face when he finally rose from the couch to bring his mug into the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His muscles ached, likely from lugging his belongings up and into his apartment from the day before, and the fact that he’d just spent hours hunched over his laptop definitely hadn’t helped. He stretched his arms above his head, a series of satisfying pops alleviating the stiffness in his joints. He quickly rinsed out his mug in the sink; the one downside to the apartment was that it came with no dishwasher, but it hadn’t been much of a dealbreaker. He didn’t mind doing the dishes, and it wasn’t like he’d have many to wash anyways. He was living alone, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seemingly woken up by the sound of the faucet, Chieko padded into the kitchen, rubbing her head against Akaashi’s calf the way she always did when she wanted to be fed. Akaashi reached into her travel carriage to pull out her food bowl, emptying half a can of cat food into the dish before setting it down on the floor of the kitchen. He knew from experience that she would quite literally eat anything placed in front of her, whether her stomach was big enough to handle it or not. Unless he wanted her to gorge herself, he had to make sure he was portioning all her meals correctly. He didn’t want a repeat of the time she’d thrown up on his dorm room carpet in University. That had been a fun one to explain to his RA.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi glanced around the apartment, sighing softly at the sight of all the boxes. He had to unpack sooner or later, and he would very much like to avoid sleeping on the couch again. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but he knew the queen sized bed which was squished into the single bedroom of the apartment would be much better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before even looking at any of the other boxes, Keiji dug through the one labelled ‘personal belongings’ in search of his toothbrush. There was a gross feeling in his mouth, reminding him that in his exhaustion he had completely forgotten to brush his teeth the night before. He made his way into the small bathroom, quickly washing his face and getting rid of his horrible morning breath with the help of a lot of toothpaste.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his basic self-care checklist taken care of, he started with the tub full of his bed sheets and comforter, lugging it into the bedroom. Despite the apartment's small size, the bedroom was actually quite spacious. It had a nice closet and a dresser pushed against one side. Keiji realized that he’d likely have to buy a desk, unless he wanted to do all his writing on the living room couch, but that could be arranged later. There was also a door that connected his bedroom to the small bathroom, which was nice. It somehow struck Akaashi for the first time, as he was pulling his duvet over his now-made bed, that this was his first time truly living on his own. Even with his roommate being absent most of the time due to their conflicting class schedules, his university dorm had still obviously shown signs of two people residing within. But now, for the first time, it was all him. He didn’t know whether to be nervous or excited; maybe he was a bit of both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, living on your own meant a lot of responsibilities that Akaashi hadn’t really needed to consider up until now. Things like making sure he had enough groceries, budgeting his money carefully so he could pay his rent and utilities. Gas wasn’t really an issue, thanks to public transportation, but he still had to pay insurance even if he wouldn’t be using his car often. A lot of the necessities seemed to be within walking distance of the apartment. Keiji vaguely remembered passing a grocery store on his walk the night before, and the apartment had its own laundromat on the ground floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The real worry now was finding a job; Akaashi had some savings, sure, but he would be lucky if they lasted him more than a few months. And he would much rather find work </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> his savings ran dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>First, unpack. Then worry about looking for job listings.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi really needed to learn to stop getting distracted from what he was doing by thinking of the things he still had to do. He spent the next few hours sorting through his boxes, deciding which things absolutely needed to be unpacked and which things could be kept in his apartment's small storage space when they weren’t being used. He started with his clothes, then his kitchen appliances and utensils, then he finally moved to the box of miscellaneous knick knacks he had brought from home. Most of them would probably find a permanent home on his desk (once he got one), but for now he was content with using them to fill up what little empty space he had on his bookshelf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was sometime around eleven when he finally collapsed back onto the sofa. He tossed his glasses on the coffee table, huffing softly as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His stomach was growling, but he’d ended up finishing the food he’d saved for breakfast sometime around six in the morning. Apparently unpacking had been enough to work his appetite back up, though. He flipped back and forth on what to do next, wondering whether or not he should browse for job listings or get off his ass and head down to the convenience store for more food. Before he came to a decision, a loud knocking on his door interrupted his thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi debated ignoring it; he didn’t understand why anyone would be knocking on his door anyways. If his landlady needed something, she’d told him that she would just call. Just as he pondered whether or not the knock was worth answering, it repeated itself, much louder this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akaashi! Are you sleeping?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let out a soft sigh at the familiar voice, opening his eyes and standing up from his place on the couch. He vaguely registered the blurry form that he assumed was Chieko shifting a bit, watching as Akaashi walked towards the door. He unlocked it with a click, opening it every so slightly to confirm who was on the other side. Even without his glasses, the blurry blob of white and grey was enough to identify his neighbour on the other side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it, Bokuto-san?” He raised an eyebrow, ignoring the surprised look on Bokuto’s face. It seemed he hadn’t actually expected Akaashi to answer at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re awake!” His smile grew wider when Akaashi opened the door fully, and stepped out into the hallway. He closed the door behind him so he wouldn’t have to worry about Chieko slipping out when he wasn’t paying attention, looking at Bokuto. He squinted slightly, his eyes taking longer than usual to adjust to seeing without his glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your knocking surely would have woken me up if I were sleeping,” He commented, “Is something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bokuto cocked his head to the side, reminding Akaashi of an owl even more with his blurry vision. A very confused, somewhat endearing owl, “Why would something be wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well you were pounding on my door like you were ready to break it down,” He pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Sorry,” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck, grinning apologetically, “My roommates and I were just about to go get breakfast. I figured I’d ask if you wanted to come along!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Breakfast? It’s almost noon…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Akaashi was immediately a little confused; he had no clue why his new neighbours were suddenly inviting him to hang out as if they’d known him for years. Akaashi didn’t even really know Bokuto’s roommates - he assumed one of them was Bedhead from the night before, but he hadn’t caught sight of anyone else chaotic enough to fit in with the two men he’d already met.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does there need to be a reason?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, “We figured you could use some friends! Y’know, new city and all that. And I doubt you’ve had the chance to go get groceries yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could have lived in the city for years, maybe this is just a new apartment,” Akaashi pointed out. Bokuto was right of course about the grocery part, but Keiji wasn’t so sure he wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Kuroo mentioned that you said last night was your first night in the city, so that's not gonna fool me!” Bokuto laughed a bit, seemingly amused instead of put-off by Akaashi’s cool demeanor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Kuroo?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is…” Akaashi began to speak, before stopping himself, “Oh. Bedhead?” The nickname slipped out before Akaashi could stop it; apparently all that writing had fried his brain-to-mouth filter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto seemed slightly surprised, but it was immediately replaced with booming laughter. If the entire hall wasn’t awake already, they sure as hell would be now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you serious? Is that really what you called me in your head?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Speak of the devil.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A blurry blob of black hair peeked out from the door down the hallway. Akaashi couldn’t make out his expression, but he assumed from Kuroo’s tone that it was one of betrayal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you didn’t exactly provide me with a name. What else was I supposed to call you?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. If he squinted, he could just barely make out Kuroo’s expression; it looked like he was pouting. Keiji was unfazed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair point, fair point,” Kuroo stepped out of the apartment, seemingly dragging a smaller person out by the hood of their sweatshirt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That must be the other roommate.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bokuto was still snorting at the nickname, “So? You gonna come along or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi debated saying no, after all he still had to browse nearby job listings and maybe go grocery shopping, but the pang of hunger in his stomach got the better of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, I’ll come. Give me a minute to get changed,” He didn’t wait for a response, closing the apartment door behind him as he walked towards his bedroom in search of anything other than his wrinkly sweatpants and t-shirt. The first thing he did was put in his contacts after some struggling with the container, thankful that they’d decided to cooperate with him and not fall on the floor or sting his eyes too badly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stepped back into the hallway a couple minutes later, dressed in jeans and a new, less wrinkly t-shirt. He’d also run a brush through his hair quickly, not exactly wanting to go out in public with the rats nest his hair had turned into after sleeping on the couch and messing with it so much during his writing marathon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, breakfast time!” Bokuto threw his hands in the air as if he’d just won something, grinning as he began to basically run towards the elevator.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, wait for us dumbass!” Kuroo yelled, running after him. Akaashi shared a quick glance with who he assumed was the third roommate, both letting out almost identical sighs at the antics of the two idiots. He hadn’t really gotten a good look at him when Kuroo had first dragged him out. He looked young, but that could’ve just been due to his height. His hair was bleached, though almost two inches of dark hair were visible at the roots as if he was too lazy to do regular touch-ups.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Akaashi Keiji, I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” He held out a hand, figuring it would be best to get to know the pudding-haired man. He seemed much quieter than either of his roommates, so maybe Keiji would get along better with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kozume Kenma,” He murmured, glancing up from his game to shake Akaashi’s hand, “I’m sorry about them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t bother, I somewhat knew what I was getting into when I agreed,” He let out a soft huff, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Slowpokes, hurry the fuck up before we ditch you!” Kuroo called from the elevator. Akaashi and Kenma shared one more exasperated glance before they made their way into the elevator.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I call dibs on driving!” Bokuto declared the second they stepped out onto the street. Keiji didn’t see an issue with it, however it seemed that both of his roommates did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a fucking chance,” Kuroo retorted, at the same time Kenma said the word ‘no’ louder than Akaashi had heard him speak up to this point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not? ‘kaashi, you want me to drive, right?” Bokuto turned to him, eyes wide in an almost pleading stare. Keiji just looked at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering why he was asking for his input.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lets not kill the guy on his second day here, alright?” Kuroo clapped Akaashi on the shoulder, snatching away the car keys from Bokuto’s hand as he continued to pout.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Judging by the visceral reactions from your roommates, I’m inclined to agree with them,” He finally responded, lips quirking up into a barely-there smile when Bokuto threw his hands up in defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine! But I call shotgun!” He huffed as the four of them walked towards the apartment complex’s parking lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi raised an eyebrow as they approached a fairly nice sports car. For a moment he didn’t think it could possibly be the one they’d be taking; why would anyone with a car as nice as that stay in a complex like this? But he was proven wrong when Kuroo slid into the driver's seat, grinning a bit as he looked back at Akaashi and saw his surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice car, right? We all put our savings together to get it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s.. not bad.” Akaashi agreed, climbing into the backseat along with Kenma.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And still, they don’t let me drive it!” Bokuto whined when he got into the passenger's side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t let you drive it in the city, because you’ll crash. You don’t pay enough attention to traffic. You drive it all the time when we go out of the city,” Kenma deadpanned, not looking up from his game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto and Kuroo continued to bicker over the owl-like man's driving as they pulled out of the parking space. Akaashi didn’t exactly feel like joining in on the conversation, which was growing louder by the second, so he settled for glancing over at the screen on Kenma’s handheld console.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What game are you playing?” He asked, momentarily wondering if his voice could even be heard over the yelling from the front seat. Evidently though, it could, and Kenma glanced up at him for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's the new Animal Crossing game,” He responded, “Have you ever played it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but it looks fun,” Akaashi commented, leaning a little closer to see Kenma’s screen better. He still kept some space between them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and Kenma tilted the console a little so Keiji could see, “Your island is pretty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only this part,” He responded, “All three of us share the island, since we put our money together to get the actual switch instead of the lite. So we sort of… Split it into three parts. Their parts look like trash.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed to be enough to put a pause on the bickering from the front seat, and both of them looked terribly offended at their roommate’s insult.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They do not!” Kuroo scoffed, “Ours look </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s not our fault you do all these fancy terraforming things we don’t know how to do!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever. Still looks bad,” Kenma seemed amused by the argument, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Akaashi took a second to study his face while he was preoccupied with bickering with his roommates. The eyes were what really struck him; they were gold, similar to Bokuto’s, but they were much darker. And when Kenma glanced his way a moment later, it almost seemed like he was reading Akaashi’s thoughts. It was slightly unnerving, even more so than Kuroo’s predatory stare, and Keiji looked away quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, what are you two doing getting along so well? That’s not fair, you were a dick to me yesterday!” Kuroo changed the subject, looking at Akaashi with a grin that told him the bedheaded man wasn’t serious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You started harassing me in a convenience store and then followed me home,” Akaashi pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t follow you, I was going home too!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unimportant. Anyways, Kenma and I are having a normal conversation, and he’s not harassing me about my eating habits either.” Akaashi retorted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You harassed him about his eating habits?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow at Kuroo, “No wonder he was a dick!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t even being a dick,” Akaashi huffed, “He’s being over dramatic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s usually how it goes with Kuro,” Kenma murmured, having turned the majority of his attention back to his game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t harass him! The guy bought like, six cup noodles and three onigiri, I was just wondering if he was gonna eat it all!” Kuroo huffed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds a bit like you’re still harassing him,” Kenma pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t turn on me, you little shit! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Kuroo looked over his shoulder for a moment, checking his blind spot and shooting a betrayed look in Kenma’s direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The argument came to an end as Kuroo pulled the car into the parking lot of a small cafe, finding a spot fairly easily. The breakfast rush had long since ended, and it seemed a little too early for the lunch rush. Through the windows Keiji caught sight of a couple people lingering around the tables. Most of them seemed like students, laptops and textbooks scattered around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This would be a good place to write…</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi thought to himself as they stepped inside. It seemed cozy, and it was air conditioned to fight off the lingering summer heat. It was definitely cooler than his apartment, that was for sure, but he doubted they were open twenty-four hours. Unless he found some sort of inspiration during the daylight hours, he’d probably have to stick to writing in his apartment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no line, so the four of them walked straight up to the counter to order. Akaashi lingered behind the other three, ready to put his drink and food on a separate order until Bokuto turned around to raise an eyebrow at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waddya want? You can put in on our bill!” He offered, grinning as if he could read Akaashi’s thoughts or something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, I can pay for myself..” He shook his head a little, feeling guilty at the idea of someone else paying for his food. Bokuto just waved him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, it's fine! We’re the ones who invited you out anyways,” He assured. The cashier looked slightly annoyed, and to avoid making their job any harder, Akaashi stepped up with a nod. He’d just give them the cash afterwards. Keiji ordered himself a black coffee and a double shot of espresso, along with a bagel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You planning on giving yourself a heart attack or something?” Kuroo scoffed a little, raising an eyebrow as Bokuto paid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Akaashi scoffed, “I was up early, and I don’t want to ruin my sleep schedule by falling asleep in the afternoon.” Kuroo just shrugged a bit in response, as if silently deciding that his excuse made sense, “Besides, it’s only a double shot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only?” He raised an eyebrow, “How much do you usually drink?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t respond for a moment, “The most I’ve had in a day was five.” Bokuto nearly dropped his wallet, turning to look at Keiji with wide eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How have you not dropped dead yet?” Kuroo scoffed, looking torn between being impressed and terrified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please tell me they weren’t straight espresso,” Kenma commented, nose scrunched up in minor disgust. When Akaashi only responded with a shrug, Bokuto just laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know whether that’s impressive or worrying,” He joked, stepping out of the way while they waited for their food and drinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was during exams, I had three in one day,” Akaashi defended himself, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still. I’m a bit concerned for your health,” Kuroo piped up, grabbing their tray of drinks off the counter while Bokuto snatched the bag of food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t try and turn this into an intervention,” Keiji deadpanned, “It won’t work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” Kuroo shrugged as the four of them settled into a booth. Kenma and Akaashi took one side, while Bokuto and Kuroo took the other, “Here’s your abomination,” He joked, setting Akaashi’s drink and his tiny espresso cup in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need the cream and sugar?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow as he grabbed his hot chocolate from the tray.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, thank you,” Akaashi shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee as both Bokuto and Kuroo looked at him in disgust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, you’re a demon or something.” Kuroo shook his head a bit as he grabbed Akaashi’s bagel out of the bag of food, tossing it towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You drink convenience store coffee, you’re in no position to talk,” Akaashi huffed out, grabbing his bagel with a murmur of thanks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touche.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were all quiet for a few minutes as they ate their food. The only sounds were Kenma’s fingers tapping against the buttons on his switch, until Kuroo reached across the table to pluck the game out of his hands. Kenma gave him an annoyed glare in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eat your food, your drink’s gonna get cold. You can play your game later,” He tutted, slipping the console in his pocket. Akaashi was slightly surprised; if he’d ever had to assume which one out of the three roommates was the somewhat responsible one, Kuroo would not have been his first guess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s right, you should eat,” Bokuto piped up, speaking around a mouthful of his BLT.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,”Akaashi and Kenma spoke in unison, both of their noses scrunching up in disgust. Bokuto just waved them off, swallowing his mouthful of food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you mentioned exams. Are you in University?” Kuroo asked, cutting off any bickering before it could even start. Akaashi shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I graduated a few months ago,” He answered, taking the lid off his espresso shot and downing it in one gulp. He caught sight of everyone physically cringing as they watched, but none of them made any comment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty. Turning twenty-one later this year..” Akaashi answered, and both Bokuto and Kuroo looked at him in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the same age as Kenma,” Kuroo commented, gesturing to the man who was finally eating the apple tart he’d ordered, “Bo and I are twenty-one, turning twenty two. How the hell’d you graduate already, though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I graduated early from high school, and then I just loaded up my semesters with courses during University so I could essentially fast track my program,” Keiji answered, setting his empty espresso cup aside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn!” Bokuto grinned, seemingly impressed, “You must be like, really smart then!” Keiji felt his cheeks heat up at the compliment, simply shrugging as he took another bite of his bagel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’d you study?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I double-majored in Film and Creative Writing,” Akaashi answered, finishing off his bagel and crumpling up the wrapper to throw out later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the hell’d you survive? Double-major </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> you overloaded yourself with classes?” Kuroo shook his head a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sheer spite.” Akaashi deadpanned. It wasn’t exactly supposed to be a joke - that truly had been why he’d managed to deal with his workload - but Bokuto and Kuroo both snorted nonetheless, “How about you guys?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kou just graduated, he got a degree in early childhood development,” Kuroo answered for Bokuto, who was struggling to swallow the final bit of his sandwich, “I’m going back for my masters in physiotherapy, the program starts in about a week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded a bit, glancing over at Kenma in search of his answer. From the corner of his eye he watched Kuroo open his mouth, obviously prepared to provide an answer to Keiji’s questioning look, but Kenma beat him to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m doing CompSci. I’m in my fourth year now,” Kenma answered, glancing up from his food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you looking to be a game designer?” Akaashi questioned, and he watched the other man’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly in surprise. As if he hadn’t expected Keiji to be able to guess that easily, but it didn’t seem like too difficult an inference. From what he’d seen, Kenma was really interested in video games to the point where he’d even brought his console to a cafe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a miniscule smile. Somehow, pulling that tiny reaction out of Kenma was just as satisfying as the booming laughter he’d been getting from Kuroo and Bokuto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s interesting. I’m sure it’s a lot of work, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi! My program was a lot of work too,” Bokuto pouted. Akaashi couldn't really tell if he was joking, or if he was genuinely offended that Akaashi had commented on Kenma’s program and not his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure,” Akaashi nodded a bit, guessing it better to play it safe than risk upsetting Bokuto, “It takes a lot to go into something like teaching, especially early childhood development. Not everyone could do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto’s pout disappeared almost instantly. Right before his eyes, Keiji watched Bokuto puff up with pride at the semi-compliment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! But it’s super fun, kids are so sweet, y’know? I’m taking some time off before I do the whole student teaching thing, but I’m excited to be in a classroom!” Bokuto grinned widely, obviously happy that Akaashi seemed just as interested in his University program as he was in Kenma’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No compliments for my program?” Kuroo rested his chin in his palm, giving Akaashi a puppy-dog look that didn’t affect him in the slightest. He could clearly tell Kuroo was joking, unlike Bokuto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope.” Akaashi retorted, lips pulling up into a small smirk as he took a sip of his coffee. He rolled his eyes when Kuroo put a hand over his heart, feigning being wounded, “Getting a masters degree is impressive though. I’d never be able to do that if I didn’t need to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I-” Kuroo began to speak, and Akaashi could already tell he was going to use this as an opportunity to be obnoxious, but Bokuto immediately cut him off by throwing his balled up sandwich wrapper at his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, shut up, lets not scare off any new friends with your ego,” Bokuto joked, grinning as Kuroo punched him in the shoulder, “What are you planning on doing for a job?” The owl-like man turned his attention back to Akaashi, ignoring Kuroo’s pouting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I want to be a writer,” Akaashi explained, taking another sip of his drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously? Have you published anything?” Bokuto leaned forward, his grin still plastered on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was odd. Everything about the three men was just.. Odd. He’d never had someone seem so interested in him as a person before. All the attention he’d gotten at home was somewhat negative, people whispering that he was an asshole or that he was cold and uncaring. Occasionally, he’d get men at University who approached him for his looks, but he’d never had </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> try so desperately to learn about him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not yet. I’ve been working on a novel since last year.” He answered, ignoring the strange feeling in his chest. He almost felt… comfortable. And it was slightly unnerving; he’d never felt so comfortable around strangers before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, that’s cool,” Bokuto sighed, leaning back in his seat, “I could never sit down and just… write.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can barely sit still doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kenma commented, leaning his elbows on the table. Bokuto just huffed, waving him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the book about?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, seemingly done with his own pouting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess the best way to describe the genre would be thriller? Maybe mystery too.” Akaashi sighed,”I’m not far through it, but I think the concept is okay enough to get published. It’s about a detective trying to hunt down a serial killer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Can I read it?” Bokuto cocked his head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not even finished the first draft yet,” Akaashi chuckled softly, “It’s nowhere near done.” Bokuto seemed to deflate a bit, and Keiji almost felt a little guilty, “You can look at it when the first draft is finished, though, if you really want to.”</span>
  <em>
    <span> If you stick around that long, that is.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi pushed away the pessimistic voice that reared its ugly head in favour of focusing on the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Bokuto grinned again, “Hell yeah!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’re you doing now for work?” Kenma raised an eyebrow. Akaashi scratched the back of his neck with a soft sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t figured that out yet. I figured I’d start looking for jobs once I got here, I just need something that will pay the bills for now. My savings won’t last me more than a couple months, after all.” He explained, “I was planning on going online later today to look for any places hiring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh!” Bokuto piped up, hand hitting the table in rapid succession as a way for him to get out his excitement at his idea, “The bar Kuroo works at is hiring right now, right?” He elbowed the dark-haired man in the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. The pay is pretty good, and it's actually a pretty chill place. I could probably get you an interview if you wanted?” Kuroo suggested, “It’s not too crazy, we get some University students coming through but it’s not any sort of nightclub. It’s pretty… home-y, I guess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi thought for a moment. Bartending didn’t exactly seem like his ideal job, but then again, he had to take whatever he could, “I mean, if you don’t mind, that would actually be great. I don’t know how good a bartender I would be, though..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, it’s not too difficult once you get used to it,” Kuroo waved him off, “Alright, I’ll talk to the owner the next time I head in for a shift, see if I can get you an interview. Ukai loves me anyways.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure he does,” Kenma scoffed a bit, ignoring Kuroo’s offended cry.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>no betaing, we publish first drafts like idiots</p>
<p>but yeah, i edit all my own stuff but if like, theres a typo or something, pls lmk! also, can u all tell i was somewhat projecting onto akaashi in the beginning there? lmao</p>
<p>also i know nothing abt game of thrones i just remember everyone hating the ending and it was the first thing that came to mind</p>
<p>as usual, kudos/comments are v much appreciated! &lt;3</p>
<p>*Come yell at me on tumblr @Kuidore!!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a little after noon when they finally made it back to the apartment complex. Akaashi found himself even more exhausted than he had been the day before, but it was more mental than physical this time. A lot of it was to do with the insane amount of writing he’d somehow managed to get done throughout the night, but he’d be lying if he said Bokuto and Kuroo’s antics didn’t have some sort of effect. They were a lot to deal with, that was for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for breakfast,” Akaashi bowed his head slightly as they stopped outside his apartment. “Oh, wait. That reminds me,” He pulled out his wallet, doing some math quickly in his head before he held out a handful of bills to Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, obviously confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for the food and the coffee. Because you refused to let me pay,” Akaashi responded, trying to push the yen into Bokuto’s hand. He refused to take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already told you! It was my treat!” Bokuto pouted a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My</span>
  </em>
  <span> treat, technically, because you used my credit card,” Kuroo pointed out, seemingly amused by Akaashi’s insistence to pay them back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then you take it,” Keiji retorted, holding the money out to Kuroo instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you hear the guy?” Kuroo slung an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder, grinning a bit as he poked his roommate’s cheek, “It was our treat. Don’t worry about it. You can pay next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji raised an eyebrow, “Have I already agreed to a next time?” He responded. He wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea, it wasn’t like he disliked the company, but he wasn’t going to give Kuroo the chance to get any more smug by agreeing right away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, not exactly. But you had fun, right?” Kuroo didn’t even seem surprised by Akaashi’s stubborn response. His grin didn’t even falter, “And you don’t know anyone else in the city. So unless you wanna hole yourself up in your apartment, you’re gonna be stuck with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm..” Keiji let out a noncommittal hum. Kuroo was right - he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> have fun. A lot more fun than he’d ever had with his university “friends”. As loud and overbearing as they were (excluding Kenma, who seemed much less chaotic than his roommates from what Keiji had seen so far), hanging out with them again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, “Fine. But next time, I pay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah!” Bokuto grinned widely, freeing himself from Kuroo’s grip, “Here, gimme your phone, I’ll put my number in it! That way I don’t have to come knocking on your door whenever we wanna talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised an eyebrow, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone, “Fine. But you’re not allowed to choose your own contact name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boo!” Koutarou pouted a bit as he watched Akaashi create a new contact, naming it ‘Bokuto-san’, “C’mon, not even an emoji?” He raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that could only be described as puppy dog eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can add an emoji if it’s that important to you,” Akaashi sighed, handing over his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put mine and Kenma’s numbers in there too! He ain’t just your friend,” Kuroo elbowed Bokuto in the side, snatching the phone as soon as his roommate had put in his number.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you put a stupid username, I’ll change it. And I also won’t put an emoji,” Akaashi deadpanned, watching as Kuroo pouted but clearly hit the backspace button a couple times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boring! Who just puts people’s names in as contacts?” Kuroo tutted, handing over the phone, “I put Kenma’s in there too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi glanced over the new contacts. He didn’t exactly want to know what Kuroo had initially been planning for his contact name, but now they were all just the three respective mens last names, followed by little kaomoji animals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also texted myself from your number. Cause I doubt you’re the type of person to initiate texting,” Kuroo grinned a bit, and Akaashi raised an eyebrow as he opened the text.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” He scoffed a bit as he read over the message, ignoring Bokuto’s pouting about ‘wanting ‘Kaashi’s number too!’</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>To : </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:17pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>r u a cat? cuz me-wow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? It’s funny,” Kuroo grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a dad joke.” Akaashi deadpanned, shaking his head as he slipped his phone in his pocket, “Anyways, thank you again for breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Kuroo seemed satisfied with himself, giving a small wave before he walked towards their door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seeya later, ‘Kaashi!” Bokuto clapped him on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of him, following after his roommate as Keiji resisted the urge to cough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice meeting you, Akaashi.” Kenma gave him a small nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You as well. Bye, Kozume-san,” Akaashi spoke, clearing his throat a bit to fight off his coughing fit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bother with the -san,” Kenma’s nose scrunched up slightly, “Just call me Kenma.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Call me Keiji, then.” Akaashi retorted. Kenma gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before following the two idiots down the hallway. Keiji flinched slightly as he stood up straight again, slipping through his own door with a sigh. Within a second, Chieko was at his feet, headbutting his shin as he slipped off his running shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. You want attention,” He chuckled softly, leaning down to pick her up. She shifted a little in his arms until she was comfortable, nestling her head against his collarbone, “I was only gone for an hour and a half.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just headbutted his shoulder as if to say she didn’t care, closing her eyes and letting herself be carried towards the couch. Once Keiji sat down she wiggled away, curling up in the corner with her back to Akaashi, content to sit with her head buried halfway underneath a throw pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should really go grocery shopping,” Akaashi murmured to himself, leaning his head back against the couch with a sigh. He’d just gotten home, and the store was probably open until late evening; grocery shopping could wait for a few hours at the very least. He should probably open his laptop, continue browsing for jobs just in case Kuroo’s bartending suggestion fell through, but he didn’t really feel like doing that either. And Keiji knew trying to edit what he’d written the night before would just cause writer's block as he obsessed over trying to perfect everything. Editing could be saved until after he’d finished his first draft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead he chose to reach for his television remote, pulling his legs up onto the couch while being careful to avoid disturbing Chieko. He scrolled through Netflix for a few minutes, settling on a crime drama he’d watched about ten times over before reaching for his phone. He didn’t want to watch anything that would take too much mental energy to focus on; more than anything, he just wanted background noise. The silence was nice when he was trying to work, but it began to get stifling after a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing he noticed when he unlocked his phone was a text notification popping up on the top of the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ has added you to a group</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he went to his messages, he went to Kenma’s contact and changed it from ‘Kozume-san’ to just ‘Kenma’. The other had made it clear he didn’t exactly like the formality of family names and honorifics, and Keiji could respect that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the couple seconds it took him to change the contact, his phone was already being flooded with messages. He opened up his texting app, letting out a soft laugh. Kuroo had taken it upon himself to make a group chat between the four of them, and Keiji scanned over the messages that had already been sent.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:20pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WAIT WHOS THE RANDOM NUMBER????</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:20pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ITS AKAASHI MORON</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:20pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>OH! HI AKAASHI!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:21pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you two are sitting right next to each other. why are you texting?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t help but smile slightly. He didn’t have much experience with friendship, so he wasn’t exactly sure what the timeline was on these sorts of things, but he figured that going out to breakfast and bickering in group chats seemed like something reserved for people who were more than just neighbours. Then again, none of his interactions thus far with the three of them seemed like interactions between strangers. It was as if they’d known each other for much longer than a day, and for a second Akaashi wondered if this was weird. It was odd for him to get close to anyone, even his family. His sister was probably the only person he truly had a close relationship with; having such closed-off parents who seemed to have only had children because it was expected of them led them both to seek out familial love from each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So why was he so comfortable being pulled into such a tight-knit group? Why was it that, even surrounded by his neighbours who obviously had known each other for years at the very least, he didn’t feel as out of place as he should have? Sure, there were a couple times Bokuto and Kuroo had started cackling at some inside joke that left Akaashi on the sidelines, even managing to pull a small smile from Kenma. But it still didn’t make him uncomfortable in any way. He still felt like he was being included, even when he had simply sat silently and sipped at his coffee. As if they were going out of their way to make him comfortable. But Keiji still had trouble understanding </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t have the answer to any of those questions, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. Obviously the three saw something in Keiji that made them want to be friends with him; after all, they had been the ones to invite him to breakfast, and to ask for his number. It was odd, but it was almost comforting. Maybe Keiji’s demeanour wasn’t as off-putting as his peers had made him believe.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:25pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>DO U THINK KAASHI FELL ASLEEP OR SOMETHING??</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:25pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>that would be impressive considering how much caffeine he had</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:26pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello. No, I didn’t fall asleep.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:26pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ITS ALIVE</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:26pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HEYHEYHEY!!! KAASHI!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:26pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello again, Bokuto-san.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:26pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>OH I SEE HOW IT IS</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>kou gets a hello and i don’t. u wound me :(</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>stop being dramatic. Hi keiji.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Kenma.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>SO KENMA GETS FIRST NAME RIGHTS A N D A HELLO???</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If Keiji could’ve projected a sigh into text, he would have. He debated continuing to hold out on a greeting, but changed his mind. He didn’t want to know how much worse Kuroo’s whining could get.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hello, Kuroo-san.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NUH UH. IF KENMA GETS FIRST NAME PRIVILEGES SO SHOULD I</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:27pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ME TOO!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How do the two of you manage to be loud even over text?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>lmao keiji has a point</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Besides, I don’t even know your first name, Kuroo-san.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>hmmmmm </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>nevermind, u not knowing my name adds to the sexy mysterious vibe i got going on~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>his first name is tetsurou.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:28pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>BETRAYAL. AKAASHI PRETEND U NEVER SAW THAT.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAASHI CALL ME KOUTAROU!!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. Both of you are still older than me, even if you act like children.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>thats a dumb reason 3:</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is that supposed to be a sad cat face or something?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>yes obviously</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HEY WAIT WE DONT ACT LIKE CHILDREN</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>you both stood on our coffee table for an hour yesterday because you saw a spider and couldnt figure out where it ran off to</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>IT WAS HUGE U WOULDVE DONE THE SAME THING IF U WERE HOME!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>YEAH THAT MOTHERFUCKER WAS OUT FOR BLOOD</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>From: </em>
  </b>
  <b>Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(12:29pm)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I rest my case.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi makes it to Friday before he finally decides it's time to go grocery shopping. He’d gone four days living off convenience store food (save for the bagel he’d eaten when he’d gone out for breakfast with his neighbours), and if it weren’t for the fact that he was running low on cat food, he would’ve been content doing it for another week. He really hadn’t done much over the past couple days. He’d gotten another chapter of his book finished, and spent much of his time entertaining Bokuto and Kuroo’s bickering and stupid ideas in the groupchat. He’d even gone browsing for jobs, knowing he’d feel better if he had some sort of safety net in case Kuroo couldn’t get him an interview at his work. All in all, he hadn’t really left his apartment other than when he’d run to the convenience store on Tuesday night to stock up on cup noodles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s late afternoon by the time he finally drags himself away from his computer, changing out of his wrinkly pajamas. He switched out his glasses for his contact lenses, patting Chieko on the head as he grabbed his wallet and keys before stepping out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned his head at the sound of the voice, slipping his apartment keys into his pocket as he watched Kuroo step out of his apartment and into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi gave him a nod of greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least drop the -san already!” He let out a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem to forget we’ve known each other for less than a week, and you’re a year older than me.” Akaashi reminded him, shaking his head a bit. The honorific was more habit than anything else, growing up around parents who put heavy emphasis on the innate respect that Akaashi owed to people older than him, but the fact that it got on Kuroo’s nerves was a little amusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” He shook his head a bit, “At least come up with a nickname or something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll consider it,” Akaashi said, only to placate his complaining senior. He wasn’t very apt with nicknames, so he doubted he’d find one anytime soon. But at least it would keep Kuroo at bay for maybe a couple days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Kuroo grinned, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket, “Where are you headed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go grocery shopping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t gone yet?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, “Have you seriously been living off convenience store food all week?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Akaashi admitted. He didn’t see what the big deal was; he was still eating a normal amount of food - well, normal for him. He just hadn’t felt like cooking or really leaving his apartment at all, even if it was just to walk down the street to the store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could’ve come to our place for dinner or something. Or at least ordered takeout! All those instant noodles are bad for you, y’know,” Kuroo lectured, poking Keiji in the forehead as if to illustrate his point. Akaashi just shot him an unimpressed look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t going to barge into your apartment uninvited and steal your food, Kuroo-san. Besides, I lived off instant noodles through University, and I’m still perfectly healthy,” He retorted, “Besides, I didn’t want to bother with takeout. Too much effort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s words got an immediate eye roll in response,  “Lame excuses. I was just gonna head to the store anyways, you’re coming with me.” Without waiting for a response, Kuroo’s hand closed around Akaashi’s arm, and he barely managed to stop himself from tripping as he was dragged towards the elevator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nuh uh. Your eating habits are obviously abysmal, and I’m not gonna let you go and buy a month's worth of microwave meals to feed yourself.” Kuroo cut him off before he could even begin speaking, not letting go of his arm until they were in the elevator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My eating habits are perfectly fine, thank you very much,” Keiji huffed out, “I’ve just been too tired to go grocery shopping is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, still. You were probably gonna go to the little place down the street, right?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, mentioning the local grocery store with a tone of distaste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, I don’t want to drive somewhere when there’s a place right there,” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but Kuroo just tutted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, that’s what you country bumpkins think ‘cause you don’t know any better!” He let out an exasperated sigh, but continued talking before Akaashi had the chance to comment on the ‘country bumpkin’ thing, “Y’see, that place is shit. It never has anything good, and if you manage to find anything half-way decent, it's super over-priced.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And where else am I supposed to go? I don’t want to waste gas dealing with traffic,” Akaashi grumbled. So what if the food would be sort of crappy? It was convenient, and Keiji was sure he’d be able to shop within his budget nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I’m gonna show you, stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should be the last person calling anyone stupid,” Keiji deadpanned, letting himself be dragged out of the elevator by the sleeve of his knit sweater. It was as if Kuroo thought he was about to bolt or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you refuse to drop the honorific out of ‘respect for your elders’, but you have no issues calling me stupid?” He arched an eyebrow, letting go of Keiji’s arm once they’d stepped outside. Finally the summer heat had begun to subside, and the cool air was almost refreshing on Akaashi’s face. He was thankful he’d decided against a jacket, though; it was cool, but he still would’ve been sweating with two layers of thick fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you just call yourself an elder?” Akaashi questioned, arching an eyebrow as Kuroo led him towards the parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I.. Shut up, you know that isn’t what I meant!” He scoffed, shaking his head a little as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the car he shared with his roommates. Akaashi just shrugged in response, climbing in the passenger's side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The drive to the store was only about a half hour, and they sat in comfortable silence through it. The only noise in the car was the sound of the engine, and the soft sounds of what Keiji assumed was Kuroo’s music playing through the speakers. It was definitely a lot less uncomfortable than their first interaction, and neither of them seemed to feel the need to fill the silence with small talk. Kuroo almost seemed calmer on his own; less chaotic, would be the best way to describe it. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Bokuto wasn't around to egg on his antics, Akaashi didn't know for sure, but it was interesting. The change wasn't extreme enough to make Keiji feel as if he was suddenly interacting with a completely new person, but he found it almost curious how much someone could change depending on the people they were around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also hadn't expected Kuroo to be... almost motherly? He'd apparently been right about him being the 'responsible one' out of the group, and that almost scared Akaashi. He definitely would've expected it to be Kenma, but then again, Akaashi wouldn't be surprised if the role rotated between the three of them based off the situation. From what he'd witnessed so far, they all seemed to lean on and rely on each other in a way that could only be achieved through years of building up trust.</span>
</p><p>For a moment, Akaashi wondered if he'd ever be comfortable putting that amount of trust in anyone. It seemed like a risk, but seeing the three roommates interact with each other, it also seemed very much worth it.</p><p>
  <span>“Right, I forgot to tell you,” Kuroo finally spoke when they pulled up to the store, pulling Akaashi's attention away from his own thoughts as he turned off the car. Keiji glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, “I have a shift at the bar tonight, so I can talk to Ukai about getting you an interview. I can let you know what he says on my break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi nodded as he undid his seatbelt, “Alright, thank you. Do you need me to print out a copy of my resume or anything for him to see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo waved him off as they stepped out of the car, “Nah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him actually look at a resume,” He laughed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket, “He just sorta… brings literally anyone in for an interview and just talks to them for a while. He didn’t even ask if I’d ever worked at a bar before when I went in for mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed a bit in confusion, “Doesn’t seem like the smartest way to choose employees,” He murmured, “but alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, Ukai’s still pretty good at finding people for the job. I don’t think he’s ever had to fire someone he’s hired this way. I remember him saying something about how people’s experience don’t determine how good a worker they are, so that's why he doesn’t bother with resumes and shit,” Kuroo explained, grabbing a basket as they stepped inside. Akaashi decided to grab himself a cart instead, knowing that with his eating habits there was no way he could fit two weeks worth of groceries in a basket. For a moment he mulled over Kuroo’s words; whoever this ‘Ukai’ person was, he definitely seemed a little odd. But Keiji wasn’t going to question his hiring methods, especially if it would get him a job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi just let out a hum in response before walking towards the produce section. He actually enjoyed cooking; it was relaxing when he was alone, and he’d spent a lot of time in his youth learning to cook from his sister when their parents were working. But sometimes (the past week especially) he was just too tired to want to do more than throw some instant noodles in the microwave. He quickly inspected the vegetables as he set them down in his cart, grabbing a couple containers of fruit as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Kuroo had joined him again, Akaashi’s cart was almost full. Most of the meat he could freeze anyways, and even with his eating habits, the food would last him at least a couple weeks. Maybe more, if he got too lazy to cook for a few days and resorted back to instant noodles. He glanced at Kuroo’s basket, seeing it full of various snack foods and a couple bottles of liquor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said you needed groceries?” Keiji raised an eyebrow as he took his spot in line at the cashier. Kuroo stepped behind him, shrugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kou and Kenma wanted snacks. They’re both holed up in the living room playing some new game Kenma bought, and we ran out of alcohol last week. This is the only stuff we really need.” </span>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t help but wonder why the hell Kuroo needed to go out of his way to buy snacks and alcohol at this store specifically when there was a perfectly good convenience store right on the end of their street, but he didn’t question it. He had a feeling that trying to sort out Kuroo’s logic would only hurt his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paid for his groceries quickly, needing Kuroo’s help to carry the bags back out to the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, why do you need so much food?” He complained, setting the bags down in the trunk of the car and positioning them so nothing would fall over or explode inside, “You’re only one guy, how much could you possibly eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is about two or three weeks worth, I’d rather not have to go grocery shopping every week if the store near the apartment complex is inadequate,” Akaashi shrugged, unfazed by Kuroo’s complaining. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to help carry Keiji’s bags outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still. How the hell can you eat so much food and be so skinny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not skinny,” Akaashi scoffed. Sure, he wasn’t some jacked body-builder type, but he had muscle, “Besides, you’re one to talk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>lean</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kuroo corrected, slamming the trunk shut and climbing back into the car. Akaashi didn’t even bother trying to argue, simply rolling his eyes as he slid into the passenger's seat.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“It’s so heavy!” Kuroo complained as they stopped outside Akaashi’s door, laden with grocery bags because according to his neighbour, ‘taking more than one trip is for cowards’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already told you that you didn’t have to help bring them up,” He sighed, fumbling with his key for a moment before sliding it into the lock, “I’m sure Bokuto-san and Kenma are waiting for their snacks anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ll be fine waiting a couple minutes. Besides, if I’d made you carry all this stuff up yourself, who knows what would’ve happened? Your arms might break,” He teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up before I break more than just your arms,” Keiji threatened, nudging the door open with his hip and gently setting down the bags on the floor. He was almost certain he’d have imprints on his arms from the bags’ handles cutting into his skin, even through his sweater. Kuroo set down the bags he was carrying, save for the single one full of things he’d bought, simply laughing at the threat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, you wouldn’t hurt me,” He pouted a bit, putting a hand over his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really want to take that risk, Kuroo-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...On second thought, not exactly,” He snickered a bit, though his attention was immediately pulled away from the conversation when he noticed something moving over Akaashi’s shoulder, “You have a cat?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s a horse,” Keiji responded dryly, but he was pretty sure Kuroo hadn’t even heard him; he was too busy kneeling beside where Chieko was stretched out across the couch, making kissy faces at her while she stared at him like he was an idiot. Akaashi debated on whether or not he wanted to make fun of Kuroo for getting rejected by a cat, or take a picture to send to the group chat the next time he was being obnoxious. He hadn’t even made a decision yet when he saw Kuroo reach out to pat her head, only for her to dodge his attempt and hop straight off the couch in favour of walking towards Akaashi. He barely managed to keep back a laugh at Kuroo’s offended expression as he watched the cat bump its head against Keiji’s leg, more than happy to let her owner lean down to scoop her into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell? Why doesn’t she like me?” Kuroo pouted, standing back up and continuing to look at the cat like it had just stabbed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, animals can typically sense when someone is a bad person,” Keiji joked, rolling his eyes a bit as Kuroo just frowned. He seemed genuinely hurt that Chieko didn’t approve of him, “Chieko takes a while to get used to people. She wouldn’t even eat if I was in the same room as her for months after I first got her. Don’t take it personally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course your cats an asshole, just like you,” Kuroo joked, shaking his head a bit. Keiji’s explanation seemed to make him feel a little better, but of course he still had to find an opportunity to be an ass. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Typical.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, what?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Since when did Akaashi feel comfortable enough assigning certain behaviors as ‘typical’ for any of his neighbours? He brushed away the thought, simply scoffing at Kuroo’s comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s perfectly nice, thank you very much,” Keiji scratched behind her ears as if to prove his point, a smug smile just barely gracing his lips as she started to purr. Kuroo just pouted again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever. Even if she’s an ass, I still love her. And I will make it my mission to get her to love me back!” Kuroo responded dramatically, pointing a finger in Akaashi’s face to illustrate his words before basically storming out of the apartment. Akaashi almost felt like he was in some foreign drama or something; of course Kuroo couldn’t help but be so dramatic, even if it was over Keiji’s cat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ridiculous,” He murmured, shaking his head a bit. Chieko let out a purr, almost as if in agreement before she squirmed a bit in his arms. He leaned down a little and opened his arms to let her hop to the floor, watching as she reclaimed her spot in the corner of the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot my bag!” The door flung open a moment later, and Kuroo’s arm reached through the door to snatch his bag of snacks and alcohol from where he’d abandoned it by the entryway in his attempts to get Chieko to ‘love him’. Akaashi put a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh when the door slammed for a second time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope u guys liked this chapter! as usual, comments/kudos are always appreciated!! &lt;3</p><p>*Come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi stepped out of the shower that night feeling much more relaxed, letting out a sigh as he reached for his phone and paused the music that had been echoing through the small bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d spent hours sitting on his couch, fiddling with his phone and attempting to distract himself with bad western rom-coms before he got tired of sitting still. Kuroo had texted him late that afternoon to let him know he was heading into work, promising that he’d get him an interview by the time his shift was done. Keiji was a little worried about what methods his neighbour intended to use to fulfill his promise - his last text had simply assured that Kuroo would ‘talk him up’ to Ukai, which made it sound more like he was trying to get Akaashi a date instead of a job. But he didn’t question it, simply sending back an ‘okay’. If it got him at least an interview, he couldn’t complain no matter how unorthodox Kuroo’s planning was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At this point, the bar was basically his last hope. Over the course of the week he’d browsed for jobs over and over, only continuing to see the same listings until he finally gave up and reluctantly decided to put his faith in Kuroo. The only job opportunities he’d found either paid too little, had specific requirements that Keiji didn’t meet, or they were too far from his apartment to justify even applying. All in all, the bar was his best (and only) option, though he’d refused to admit that to his neighbour. If Kuroo couldn’t get him an interview, he’d just have to settle for one of the lower-paying listings in the area and hope his savings could cover what his paycheck wouldn’t. The last thing he wanted was for Kuroo to feel guilty if, for some reason, Ukai denied Keiji an interview.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hot shower had managed to melt away some of his anxiety, but it still lingered in the back of his mind even as he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. Steam billowed out after him, the chill of the apartment making Akaashi shiver. Chieko barely moved from her position on the couch, and he reached out a hand to scratch her head as he passed by on his way to his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He changed into his pajamas, tossing on a hoodie and sliding his glasses onto his face before stepping back out. It was almost nine by this point; Akaashi had no clue when Kuroo would have a chance to talk to Ukai, and he really didn’t feel like sitting and stewing in his own nervousness for the next however many hours. For a second he debated trying to watch television again, but he shot down the idea almost immediately. It hadn’t worked the first time, it wasn’t going to suddenly work now. Reading a book probably wouldn’t be any better.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I could try to write..</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi immediately shook his head a bit. He’d be much too distracted. Sleeping didn’t seem too viable an option either, he’d be tossing and turning and constantly checking his phone. Plus, it was way too early to sleep anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really hadn’t expected finding a job in the city to be so stressful; he’d expected it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier</span>
  </em>
  <span> than finding work back home, considering the wide range of possible places to apply. Instead, it was proving much harder. All he’d had to do in high school was walk into the corner store by his house and hand in his resume, and he’d gotten an interview that same week. He’d anticipated the city would be much the same, with plenty of open jobs. However, there were also plenty of people to fill those jobs, many of them much more competent and with much more experience than Keiji.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is exhausting..</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>As if summoned by his subconscious wish for a distraction, a sudden (and much too loud) knock on Akaashi’s door jerked him out of his thoughts. Keiji probably could’ve inferred who was behind the noise, even if it weren’t for the yelling that followed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi!” Bokuto’s voice was probably loud enough to alert everyone on their floor. Keiji wouldn’t be surprised if his neighbours had hundreds of noise complaints with Bokuto’s overall lack of volume control. He didn’t bother with a verbal response, letting out a soft sigh as he walked towards the door. He opened it, having enough foresight to preemptively move his head slightly to the side. Just as he expected, Bokuto’s hand was raised to knock again, his fist connecting with the space in which Keiji’s head had been just a moment ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you - since when do you wear glasses?” Bokuto cut himself off with his own question, dropping his fist. Akaashi raised an eyebrow. Had he never worn his glasses around his neighbours before? He hadn’t really thought about it, but he assumed it was just natural at this point for him to avoid wearing them when he left his apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had them for years. I just prefer contacts,” He answered. After a moment of silence he glanced around, wondering if Bokuto’s visit had any reason beyond commenting on his glasses. He just blinked, a little uncomfortable with the fact that Bokuto seemed to just be staring at his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do my glasses really look that bad?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi wondered why he’d possibly care whether or not Bokuto thought his glasses were ugly. They weren’t for style, they existed to fix his poor eyesight. But he ignored the oddly self-conscious thought, crossing his arms, “Is… that the only reason you came over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bokuto’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as if Akaashi’s words had pulled him out of some sort of trance. He shook his head, suddenly remembering why he’d shown up at Akaashi’s apartment in the first place, grinning, “Oh, right! No, I came over to see if you were busy right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not. Why?” Akaashi was almost nervous as to what Bokuto had planned. It was nighttime, and the fact that his neighbour was still fully dressed made him a little nervous. He really didn’t feel like being dragged out of the complex when he was already comfortably in his pajamas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he could always say no, but he was almost entirely sure that rejecting his offer to hang out would send Bokuto into what Keiji had dubbed his ‘dejected mode’. It seemed that while Bokuto got incredibly happy very easily, he also got upset just as fast. He’d seen in it real time during their breakfast hangout, when Bokuto had seemed to deflate when Akaashi told him there wasn’t enough of his book to read, but he’d been able to very quickly confirm his hypothesis even with only their text conversations over the past week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma and I wanna play a board game and we need a third player,” Bokuto answered with a grin, pulling Keiji out of his thoughts. Why was he spending so much time analyzing Bokuto’s moods? It was odd, Keiji had never been too concerned with the emotions of other people. It sounded like a horrible thing to say, but he’d always felt it was much better to be blunt and honest than to sugarcoat things for the sake of others. However there was something about seeing Bokuto completely deflate, in real life or even over text, that made Keiji feel a pit of unpleasantness in his stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a moment for Keiji to fully leave behind his thoughts and process Bokuto’s words. Akaashi hadn’t exactly expected his neighbour to be showing up because of any sort of emergency, but the fact that he’d come rushing over in such a hurry over a board game was slightly amusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What game?” Akaashi questioned, having to fight off the urge to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clue!” Bokuto bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, “We’ve got takeout too, if you haven’t eaten yet!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to steal your food,” Keiji commented, continuing to speak before Bokuto had the chance to argue, “but.. sure. Clue sounds fun, I guess I’ll play.” It was a distraction, at least, and he hadn’t hung out with his neighbours since their breakfast ‘adventure’ as Bokuto had called it. It had also been a long time since he’d played any board games.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not stealing, we bought a bunch!” Bokuto assured, “Seriously, we always get too much takeout ‘cause none of us really like waking up to make breakfast,” He explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then I don’t want to steal your breakfast,” Keiji retorted, “Just let me feed Chieko first, then I’ll be over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Chieko?” Bokuto tilted his head to the side. The unfamiliar name seemed to be enough for him to forget all about the food, “Kaashi! Do you have a secret kid we don’t know about?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was anyone other than Bokuto asking that question, Akaashi would think they were being sarcastic. With Koutarou, however…. He wasn’t completely sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I do not have a child. That would never happen,” Akaashi sighed, “Chieko is my cat,” He gestured behind him into his apartment, where his cat had looked up from licking her paws at the sound of her own name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah!” Bokuto basically yelled directly in Akaashi’s ear, eyes wide as he peeked over his shoulder to look at the animal, “Can I pet it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t really like new people…” Keiji commented, but Bokuto looked too excited for him to actually say no. He moved out of the way, and Bokuto took that as his invitation to step into the apartment and almost immediately sit down right beside the couch. He’d almost expected him to immediately reach forward and pick her up, and Keiji was already prepared to go into the bathroom for band-aids, but instead Bokuto just stayed sitting down, staring at Chieko with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared back at him warily, seemingly assessing whether or not she wanted to be anywhere near him. Keiji just watched in almost awe. It had taken months for her to let Akaashi that close to her, and yet there she was, sitting and just… staring back at Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re already doing better than Kuroo-san,” Keiji commented, shaking his head a bit as he closed his apartment door. If Chieko suddenly decided she wanted to get away from Bokuto, he really didn’t want her running out of the apartment. He didn’t feel like spending his night chasing his cat around the complex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Kuroo already met her?!” Bokuto looked away from the cat for a moment, seeming almost offended, “What an ass!” Chieko didn’t seem too happy with the yelling, but she didn’t try to run off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He met her this morning, he refused to let me bring in my groceries alone,” Keiji chuckled softly, picking up Chieko’s bowl and grabbing a can of cat food, “She didn’t like him too much. He tried to pet her and she just ran away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So she already likes me more than Kuroo?” Bokuto grinned, seemingly proud of that fact. Akaashi just let out a soft laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I guess so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Bokuto snickered a bit, before turning his attention back to the cat. They continued to just… stare at each other as Keiji opened the can of food and dumped it into her bowl, setting it down on the living room floor. She didn’t seem too interested in it; she was too busy tentatively sniffing the hand that Bokuto had offered to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m impressed,” Keiji commented, crossing his arms as he watched Bokuto reach a hand out to pat her head. Unlike Kuroo, his hand actually made contact with her fur. She didn’t lean into him, but she also didn’t move away or try to hiss at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She likes me!” Bokuto whisper-yelled, seemingly worried that if he spoke too loud he’d scare her off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess she does,” Akaashi’s lips pulled up into a slight smile as he watched Bokuto scratch behind her ear before pulling away and standing up, “I’ve never seen her that comfortable around a stranger before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’m just special,” Bokuto boasted, hitting his chest with his fist, “Ow..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you expect? You just punched yourself,” Keiji rolled his eyes a little, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever! Kenma’s waiting, let's go play Clue!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi fought off another smile, following Bokuto as he bounded out of the apartment. By the time he’d locked his door, Bokuto was already in his apartment yelling for him to hurry up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to lock my door, Bokuto-san. Weren’t you the one who told me always to do that?” Keiji questioned when he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, it looked exactly how he’d expected it to look. It was a bit of a mess, there were empty chip bags sitting beside the couch and half-finished takeout containers strewn over the coffee table, but most of all it looked lived-in. There were picture frames on every wall, there were a couple miscellaneous posters scattered around, hung up almost sideways. It was very similar to his own apartment, just a little bigger and a lot less empty. As he glanced around, Keiji noticed that there only seemed to be two bedrooms; unless their apartment just didn’t have a bathroom, which Keiji doubted was the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe there’s two beds in one room or something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t dwell on it; he hadn’t come over just to scrutinize the layout of his neighbours apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Keiji,” Kenma’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and if Keiji had a little less control over his reactions he probably would’ve jumped. Sitting on the couch in what Akaashi had just assumed was a pile of blankets was Kenma, his face barely visible through the layers, “Nice glasses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Kenma,” Akaashi gave a nod of greeting. He pointedly ignored the way blood rushed to his face at the compliment; he’d never heard Kenma compliment </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d watch him insult Bokuto and Kuroo on multiple occasions, but the closest he’d seen the other come to complimenting either of them was when he’d reluctantly admitted that Bokuto wasn’t absolutely horrible at Mario Kart. Something about the genuine tone of voice made Akaashi feel almost embarrassed, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So unfair!” Bokuto whined, flopping down on the couch beside Kenma. Akaashi raised an eyebrow, but Bokuto continued before he could ask what was wrong, “Why does Kenma get to call you by your first name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, this again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he wanted me to call him Kenma instead of Kozume-san, it was only fair for me to give him the same right.” He retorted, settling himself on the empty chair after a moment of hesitation. He tried to shake off the feeling that he was intruding, reminding himself that his neighbours had literally invited him over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you to call me Koutarou, though, and you still haven’t!” Bokuto retorted, sitting back up with a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve already explained this, Bokuto-san,” He deadpanned, refusing to let himself be swayed by the pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, age difference and respect and all that. It’s dumb,” Bokuto huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you want to play a board game, Kou?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, obviously looking to change the subject before Bokuto’s pout led to his mood dropping completely. Keiji shot him an almost grateful look as the owl-like man immediately perked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right!” Bokuto hopped up from the couch, jumping up to grab a box from on top of one of the bookshelves in the living room, “Okay, clear off the table!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma shook his head a little, slipping his phone in his pocket as he grabbed the takeout containers, “There’s some sashimi and some tempura left, if you want any,” Kenma glanced over at Akaashi, offering him one of the untouched takeout containers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not that hungry. Besides, I’m sure you want to save some for Kuroo-san,” Keiji assured, “Thank you, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just take the food, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto rolled his eyes, “Kuroo probably won’t even touch any of it when he gets home, he normally eats at the bar. I told you, there’s plenty! So eat!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma continued to hold out the container with an expectant stare, while Bokuto just crossed his arms. Clearly neither of them intended to take no for an answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji let out a sigh, reaching to grab a pair of chopsticks off the coffee table before taking the container from Kenma, “For someone who doesn’t eat much himself, you’re quite pushy about food,” He commented, lips pulling up into a slight smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve seen your appetite,” Kenma retorted, “It’s as ridiculously huge as Koutarou’s. You’re not going to sit here and starve because you’re too respectful to eat our food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! My appetite is normal!” Bokuto huffed, sitting himself back down on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ate all of the yakitori we ordered. That was supposed to serve six people,” Kenma deadpanned, shaking his head a little as he pulled his feet up onto the couch. Akaashi just opened the takeout container, watching as Bokuto and Kenma bickered - well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto</span>
  </em>
  <span> bickered. Kenma occasionally piped in with a word or two, but it was still clear that he was the one winning the ‘argument’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to eat a lot or I’m gonna get skinny like you and Kuroo!” Bokuto huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest. Akaashi wouldn’t exactly call Kuroo skinny; he’d seen the man's arms, after all. He was lanky, sure, but he definitely seemed muscular. Not that he would ever say it out loud, lest the Rooster-head’s ego got any more inflated. Then again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> would look skinny next to Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tetsu isn’t even that skinny,” Kenma rolled his eyes, “You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> well enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi felt like he had missed something in Kenma’s statement, because the moment it left his lips, Bokuto’s cheeks lit up with a blush. He glanced between them for a moment, trying to decipher what exactly in the vague statement had caused such a reaction. Bokuto’s eyes met his for a moment, only to immediately move away to glare at Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! Shuddup!” Bokuto grumbled, “Let’s just play!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Setting up the board first would probably be a good idea,” Akaashi finally piped up, setting aside the empty takeout container.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right!” Bokuto nodded a bit, dumping the contents of the game box onto the table. Kenma and Akaashi shared a half-exasperated look as Bokuto set up the board.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you still have the notepads?”Akaashi raised an eyebrow, glancing over the mess of cards and player pieces that had been pushed to the side of the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto and Kuroo used them for origami when we first got the game,” Kenma answered, “I just use the notes on my phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, alright.” Keiji nodded, pulling out his phone to look up a picture of the little notepads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who uses the notepads?” Bokuto whined, “That’s boring!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is why you’ve never won a game of clue.” Kenma retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to keep track of what you have, and what you’ve guessed, so you can eliminate things.” Akaashi pointed out, pulling his legs up beside him on the armchair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo never uses the notepad, and he wins all the time!” Bokuto picked up all the cards, separating them into people, locations, and weapons before shuffling each small pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just has… weirdly good intuition.” Kenma sighed, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or he’s cheating,” Akaashi glanced over the little table he’d made in his notes, making sure all the information was correct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...That fucker!” Bokuto shouted, eyes wide as if the possibility had only just occurred to him. Keiji had to fight off a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You try to cheat too, y’know.” Kenma pointed out, clearly less bothered by the revelation than Bokuto was, “You’re just bad at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh whatever,” Bokuto pouted, putting three cards into the little envelope and setting it in the center of the board, “I call dibs on Colonel Mustard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take Plum, I guess,” Kenma sighed, setting his switch aside to grab the little purple game piece. Keiji reached forward to grab the red one, putting it on the start position as Bokuto dealt out the rest of the cards. Akaashi glanced over them, marking them off on the makeshift list.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s going first?” Kenma raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, me! Dibs!” Bokuto immediately snatched the dice off the table, earning an amused sigh from the other two men.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“I legitimately hate you. Get out of my apartment,” Bokuto flopped back against the couch, pouting as Akaashi won for the tenth time in a row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Akaashi moved to stand up, fighting off a laugh when Bokuto immediately sat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you fucking dare! You’re not leaving until I beat you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Make up your mind, Kou,” Kenma shook his head a bit, a small smile pulling at his lips. It looked like he was torn between laughing at the situation and trying to comfort Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you expect me to spend the rest of my life here?” Keiji raised an eyebrow, sitting back down in the armchair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that's what it takes!” Bokuto glared, pointing at Akaashi. He just let out a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled his legs back up beside him on the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kou, we’ve already been playing for hours,” Kenma sighed, “It’s almost 1am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it actually?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, glancing at his phone, “Shit, it is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is.” Kenma rolled his eyes, stifling a yawn with his hand, “And I wanna play my game before Kuro shows up and makes me go to bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine! We continue tomorrow!” Bokuto declared, collecting the cards and pieces to haphazardly stuff them back into the box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember agreeing to that..” Akaashi mused, slipping his phone in his pocket. He watched as Kenma pulled out his switch again, laying back on the couch with his feet in Bokuto’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have a choice!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then,” Akaashi let out a soft laugh. He was about to make a comment about how he should be heading home when the apartment door suddenly swung open with way too much force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sup losers! I’m home and ready to commit a murder!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji arched an eyebrow as he looked towards the door. He could faintly hear Kenma muttering a string of curse words under his breath; obviously he wouldn’t have time to play his game before Kuroo forced him to sleep. Kuroo stood in the doorway, kicking his shoes off with much more force than necessary. He was dressed much nicer than Keiji had ever seen him - not that that was saying much. Kuroo apparently lived in sweatpants, ripped jeans, and t-shirts. Now, however, he had on a slightly wrinkled red button up and a pair of black jeans. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Must be his ‘uniform’ for the bar…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? Was the bar busy?” Bokuto seemed to have let go of his frustration as soon as Kuroo stepped through the door, leaning back to watch as Kuroo basically stomped into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was horrible!” He huffed, “We were literally packed when I showed up. Who the fuck is out drinking at 6pm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously a lot of people,” Kenma commented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t start,” Kuroo huffed as he walked back out with a cup of what Akaashi assumed was coffee, “But I didn’t even get my break until 11, and Ukai was busy working the bar so I couldn’t even ask him about getting ‘Kaashi an interview until I left!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji could only assume that Kuroo was either too caught up in his rambling to notice that he was there, or that he couldn’t see him over the back of the armchair. He assumed it was the former.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you back so early? The bar doesn’t close until 2 on Fridays, right?” Bokuto questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, Ukai decided to close early. A fight broke out between two fuckin’ frat guys, cops got called and everything. Ukai was in a pissy mood already, so he kicked everyone out at like, 12:30.” Kuroo answered with a huff, walking towards the couch, “I just wanna take a fuckin’ nap.” He leaned down, and Keiji’s eyes widened slightly as Kuroo pressed a kiss to Bokuto’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment his brain processed the information that had basically been thrust in his face, but he didn’t let his surprise show. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much of a surprise, but Keiji had never been the best at deciphering whether people were dating or just very good friends. It made a lot of sense, though, for Bokuto and Kuroo to be together. They were almost eerily similar, and what differences they did have managed to complement each other almost perfectly. Plus, there were the oddly flirty remarks that got tossed around often in the group chat, and the lack of a third bedroom that Akaashi had noticed when he’d first walked into the apartment. And there was Kenma’s comment about Bokuto knowing full well that Kuroo wasn’t exactly skinny. It made a lot of sense, now that Keiji looked back on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma cleared his throat almost immediately, seeming a bit more surprised by the kiss than he should have been, considering the fact that the three of them were roommates. Keiji found it odd, but maybe Kenma just wasn’t used to Bokuto and Kuroo showing PDA in front of him. After all, they’d avoided it enough that Keiji hadn’t even realized the two were together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those words seemed to be enough to make both Kuroo and Bokuto pull away from the kiss as if they’d been burned. Kuroo looked at the armchair with wide eyes, while Bokuto just looked at Kenma. They almost seemed… panicked?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit! I didn’t even fuckin’ notice you, uh.. Hey,” Kuroo seemed to stumble over his words a bit, straightening up immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Akaashi gave a small wave, unsure of why the two seemed so unnerved. Even Kenma seemed a little tense, and the longer the silence went on, the more uncomfortable the energy in the room became, “So, you two are together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huuh? What? No!” Bokuto scoffed. He was a very bad liar, Keiji had figured that out fairly quickly, “We were just, uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care, you know,” Akaashi interrupted Bokuto’s rambling before it could begin, “I understand why you hid it, but I’m not homophobic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god,” Kuroo seemed to relax a bit, but the tension in his shoulders didn't dissipate completely. Bokuto seemed to relax immediately, slouching against the couch with a relieved laugh, “That would’ve really sucked bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it would have,” Akaashi chuckled softly. He glanced at Kenma after a moment, only to watch as the other man’s eyes immediately flicked away and back to his game. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t immediately relax at Keiji’s reaction. He was still tense, fingers hitting the buttons of his switch a little harder than necessary. He almost seemed to be waiting for a negative reaction. Akaashi couldn’t exactly blame him; they all seemed fairly close, so it made sense that Kenma was so protective over his roommate’s relationship. And they had only known Akaashi for six days. Anyone could say they weren’t homophobic, but that didn’t automatically man they weren’t. Keiji had found that out the hard way when he’d come out to his parents, “But really. You have nothing to be worried about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Kuroo smiled a bit, slipping his hands in his pockets, “We didn’t expect there would be an issue, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not offended either. I know how people can be,” Keiji assured, noticing Kuroo’s nervousness beginning to reemerge, “I probably would’ve done the same in your situation. We haven’t known each other that long, after all, and you can’t always tell that sort of thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, this is a relief!” Bokuto grinned, “It was getting exhausting trying to avoid the PDA!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only time you two had to avoid it was when we went out to breakfast. And neither of you did a good job at it,” Kenma deadpanned, looking up at Bokuto, “And just because Keiji knows about you and Kuroo doesn’t mean you’re free to just make out whenever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Yeah, right..” Bokuto’s eyebrows furrowed a bit at Kenma’s words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi sensed there was something he was missing, a silent conversation beyond Kenma’s statement that he wasn’t privy to. He ignored it; he was likely overthinking, and Kenma seemed to be looking out for Akaashi’s sanity and comfort more than anything. He could only imagine the things the pudding-haired man had to deal with, rooming with the couple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, either way, it’s a relief,” Kuroo interrupted the staring contest, leaning down to rest his elbows on the back of the couch, “It sucks to lose a friend cause of somethin’ like that. At least we got it out of the way early, eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well.. It’s late, I should go home,” Akaashi commented after a moment of silence. Bokuto had begun to busy himself with putting away the board game, while Kuroo and Kenma had begun what seemed like a silent conversation. Kuroo glanced at the clock, as if only just realizing the time despite having been made aware of it the moment he walked through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, right. It’s like, one thirty,” Kuroo chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, go get some rest! You’re gonna mess up your sleep schedule!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shot him an unamused look, “I usually go to bed around this time anyways,” He deadpanned, shaking his head a bit as he stood up, “Thank you for dinner. This was fun” He gave a small nod to his neighbours as he walked to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye Keiji,” Kenma muttered from his place on the couch, not looking up from his game. Kuroo and Bokuto’s calls of goodnight followed him out of the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re playing clue again tomorrow, don’t forget!” Bokuto yelled after him as Akaashi stepped out into the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t remember agreeing to that,” Akaashi commented, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he closed the door behind him. When he got back to his apartment he immediately collapsed on his bed, taking off his glasses and setting them on his nightstand. He felt Chieko’s weight settle on the end of the bed as he turned onto his side. As he began to drift off, he realized that he’d completely forgotten to ask Kuroo whether or not he’d gotten an interview at the bar.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know i know its been like 17 days, i;m v sorry for the late update but I got hit with some mf writers block which is always fun</p><p>anyways, i hope you guys like this chapter! ive mentioned before that i dont really plan out my stories (dont follow my lead thats not a smart thing to do) so im just kinda coming up with things as i go, but i hope you guys still like this story anyways!</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are super appreciated, i love reading through comments n stuff, they always make me really happy &lt;3</p><p>**Come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Shit, I totally forgot to tell Akaashi about the interview!” Kuroo huffed a bit as he settled into the now-vacated armchair, putting his feet up on the coffee table, “Whatever, I’ll go tell ‘im tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That really should be the last of your worries right now,” Kenma sighed, setting aside his game, “You do realize you just complicated things, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddya mean?” Kuroo’s eyebrows furrowed a bit as Kenma sat up, clearly ready to speak on whatever it was he had been trying to silently tell Kuroo a few minutes earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With Akaashi?” Kenma offered, obviously unimpressed by his boyfriend’s ignorance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d he complicate things? This is good, isn’t it?” Bokuto piped up, wrapping an arm around Kenma’s shoulders, “I mean, we know ‘Kaashi isn’t homophobic, that’s a start!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean he’s going to be comfortable with… this,” Kenma gestured between the three of them, allowing himself to be pulled to Bokuto’s side, “This is more than just us being gay. There’s three of us dating, that isn’t normal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what?” Kuroo scoffed, taking his feet off the table to lean his elbows on his knees, “Nothing about us has ever been normal. You know that, and so do we,” He gestured between himself and Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We talked about this after we went out for breakfast. It’s not something you just… tell someone a week after you meet them!” Kenma sighed, leaning into Bokuto’s half-hug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi won’t have an issue with it,” Bokuto ran his fingers through Kenma’s hair, trying to calm him down slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sighed a bit. Honestly, he felt a little guilty; he hadn’t even realized that Keiji was in the apartment - the extra set of shoes at the door </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have tipped him off, but he was too busy ranting to even think about it. He knew better than anyone how picky Kenma was when choosing who he did and didn’t want to know about them, and he’d somehow managed to fuck up anyways. All three of them had their moments of insecurity in the relationship; times when they felt like the odd one out, or where they worried if the relationship was really as stable as they all believed. Bokuto tended to get anxious about it most often, considering Kenma and Kuroo’s history, but they’d all learned how to deal with those feelings over the years. However, Kenma’s insecurity in their relationship tended to extend farther than just the three of them; he was always the one worried about other people, worried about who to tell and how public they should be. It’d taken a full year of dating before Kenma was comfortable enough to tell their group of friends. Thankfully, it had gone extremely well, and their families came a year after that. There had been some confusion, and a lot of explaining to do, but everyone they’d told had reacted pretty well. However, even the positive reactions from the people around them wasn’t enough to make Kenma comfortable with their relationship being completely public; he was always hesitant about PDA, scared of how new people would react to their relationship. He was constantly worried about the stares and judgement from strangers, scared of what they’d think. Kuroo and Bokuto understood his feelings, which was why Kenma almost always had the final say on whether or not they were going to tell someone about their relationship. Bokuto and Kuroo were very much of the belief that if people didn’t like them, it wasn’t their problem, it was the person’s. But Kenma was different; he cared, probably too much, about how other people saw him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have no way of knowing that,” Kenma pulled away, looking at Bokuto incredulously, “There’s absolutely no way we can know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what do you want to do, then?” Kuroo asked, “It’s your choice if you want him to know, Ken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I.. don’t know.” Kenma sighed, leaning back against Bokuto, “He thinks only you and Bokuto are dating… We can keep it that way for a while, I guess. Until we’re sure he won’t react badly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if that day never comes?” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows, “I mean.. We all want him as a friend, right? He’s nice, he’s not judgemental, he’s fun to hang out with. Even you, Kenma! You’ve talked to him more than I’ve seen you talk to any stranger before. But he’s not the most expressive. I can’t even read the guy, how are we supposed to figure out if he’s okay with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll deal with that when it comes to it, if time passes and we can’t get any read on how he might react,” Kenma retorted, “I’m just.. I don’t know. I’m not comfortable with him knowing yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we won’t tell him,” Kuroo shrugged, “But are you really okay with that? Bo and I just… pretending it’s just us?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“It’s only around Akaashi… I can handle it. It’s the best option right now, considering you just walked up and played tonsil hockey with Bokuto in front of him,” Kenma shot him a half-assed glare, and Kuroo just put his hands up in a show of surrender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, I get it,” Kuroo sighed. He still wasn’t 100% sold on it, but if it was what Kenma wanted, he wasn’t going to argue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t know if this is really what's best..” Bokuto seemed hesitant in his words, but he continued anyways, “I mean… What happens if he does have a bad reaction?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Weren’t you the one who just said he would be fine with it?” Kuroo questioned, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and I definitely believe he would be. But we can’t just pretend like him </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> being okay with it isn’t a possibility. We all know it is, that’s why we’re talking about it, right?” Bokuto glanced between Kenma and Kuroo, looking for someone to object.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if Akaashi does end up having an issue with it, that’s his problem!” Kuroo’s tone was a little defensive as he took a sip of his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be hurt by it,” Bokuto retorted, “And it’ll hurt way more if we wait. The longer we keep him in the dark about it, the more we’re going to get attached to him. Don’t even deny it,” He shot a half-glare at Kuroo when he opened his mouth, “We’re already inviting the guy to our apartment, and we’ve known him for less than a week. Eventually he’s gonna get introduced to our friend group, and that’ll make things way harder. If he’s going to have a bad reaction, isn’t it better he has it </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> and not in a year when we finally decide to tell him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sighed, running a hand through his hair. Bokuto had a point; it would hurt way more if the three of them got close to Akaashi, let him into their lives more than they already had, only for him to ditch when he inevitably found out about their relationship. It wasn’t a secret they could keep forever, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine… Maybe we shouldn’t wait as long as we did with everyone else, but I still don’t think we should tell him now. Like I said, this… isn’t something you just go around telling new people. I say we wait at least a month,” Kenma sighed. He clearly saw the logic in Bokuto’s words, and didn’t seem too happy about the fact that he couldn’t come up with a counter-argument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can handle a month. If we’re all comfortable telling him at that point, we’ll do it.” Kuroo agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And until then, we just let him think it’s just me and Kuroo dating,” Bokuto glanced at Kenma for confirmation, and he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two show the most PDA anyways. It won’t be much different from usual,” Kenma pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s only ‘cause you don’t let us shower you in love!” Bokuto pouted, resting his chin on Kenma’s shoulder, “At least not in public.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess we just have to make up for it when we’re at home, like usual,” Kuroo’s lips pulled up into a grin. He was relieved that the tension was gone, leaving only the comfort and feeling of safety he’d become accustomed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you two are sappy. It’s gross,” Kenma grumbled, tipping his head forward to look down at his game. Kuroo was pretty sure he was just trying to hide his blush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ruin the moment, Kenma!” Bokuto let out a huff, continuing to pout as he clung to the smaller man. Kuroo just laughed as he watched Kenma try - and fail - to dodge the storm of kisses Bokuto insisted on pressing to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love us and you know it,” Kuroo grinned, standing up to press a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. Debatable.” Kenma’s face scrunched up a bit as Bokuto kissed his nose, his cheeks getting redder by the second. Kuroo was pretty sure he caught sight of a grin through the mess of hair, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rude!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Oikawa.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi woke up late the next morning. He hadn’t expected a night of Clue to be so exhausting, but then again, he’d had to deal with a lot of Bokuto’s yelling. He couldn’t help but smile a bit at the memory of the night before. He had never really cared for making friends, and for the first time in his life he felt like that was a mistake. He’d always prioritized his school, or volleyball, or writing; it made his parents happy, and it kept him busy, so what was the point of going out of his way to socialize with people who already didn’t like him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d missed out on. Clearly, it was a lot; breakfast ‘adventures’, playing board games until one in the morning, the constant buzzing of his phone as new texts came in from the group chat. He’d never experienced these things before, they were all new and honestly, they were pretty fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi reached for his phone, eyes widening a bit as he saw the time. It was nearly ten; he overslept a lot more than he thought he had. Chieko was, surprisingly, still at the end of the bed, not kneading at Akaashi’s organs in search of food. With a stifled yawn he stood up, padding towards the kitchen in his socked feet. He filled Chieko’s food and water bowls first, before making his way to the fridge. It was the first morning he had real </span>
  <em>
    <span>food</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make himself breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm… what do I want?” He murmured into the empty apartment, as if expecting Chieko to give him an answer. Alas, she didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally decided on pancakes; they were quick and easy, and Keiji could make a lot without worrying about using up too many groceries on a single meal. He pulled out the box of mix and a bowl, humming to himself as he made the batter. As he turned on the stove, he remembered the matter of the interview. He’d go ask Kuroo about it after he was finished eating. After all, there’d clearly been more important things that his neighbours had been focused on last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he poured the batter into the pan, Keiji thought over the events of the night before. He was still a little surprised by what he’d learned; not that Bokuto and Kuroo were dating, per se, but more so by the fact that he’d managed to miss it entirely. Sure, they hadn’t exactly engaged in much PDA, but the way they acted around each other was so… comfortable. More comfortable than Akaashi had seen anyone else around their friends. He could only assume that he’d missed it because the two of them also acted the same way with Kenma. The three of them were incredibly close, so Akaashi had just assumed it was a product of knowing each other for so long. But for someone who prided himself on being observant and able to read people, the fact that Bokuto and Kuroo’s relationship had been staring him in the face for the past week and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> noticed was weird. Even though they were clearly trying to hide it, Keiji probably still should’ve picked up on the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> was going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still slightly confused over what had happened, but he preferred not to think about it. Kenma’s reaction had been odd to say the least. Keiji could understand Bokuto and Kuroo’s nervousness; suddenly (and accidentally) coming out to someone you’d only known for a week would be enough to set anyone on edge. But he chalked Kenma’s continued tenseness down to him being protective over his roommates. They were all good friends, after all. Keiji probably would do the same, in his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi pulled himself out of his thoughts when he started to smell smoke, letting out an incoherent noise as he flipped over the pancake. He let out a huff; the entire bottom was black. It looked like an oversized hockey puck. With an annoyed sigh he dumped the ruined pancake into the garbage, starting over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He refused to get distracted this time, and about ten minutes later he sat himself down on his couch with a plate of unburnt pancakes. His phone had been buzzing incessantly for the past few minutes, but he’d pointedly ignored it in favour of focusing on cooking. As he stabbed one of the pancakes with his fork, taking a large bite, he finally glanced at the series of notifications. Some were from his various social media accounts, there were a couple email notifications. He glanced at the series of notifications from the group chat; skimming over the earlier messages. He started paying attention when his name was mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:07am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>KAAAAAASHI WAKE UP</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:07am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAASHI ARE YOU AWAKE</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:07am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:07am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:08am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:08am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:08am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:09am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>im going to kill you both.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:09am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At least give him more than a minute before you start spamming his phone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:10am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>AKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASHI</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:10am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WHAT IF HES SLEEPING THO</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:10am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>OR DEAD!!!!!!!!!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:11am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>the exclamation points makes it seem like ur happy abt that</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:11am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>obvIOUSLY I WOULDNT B HAPPY ABT THAT</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:12am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell is so important that u both need to blow up his phone</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:12am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>no clue kuroo started it</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:12am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Its…………………………………………………………………………….</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:12am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>………………………………………………………………………………</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:12am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>………………………………………………………………………………</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:13am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>………………………………………………………………………………</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:13am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god get on with it</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:13am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>a secret</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:13am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…..</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>….</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>THERE HE IS</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i regret giving you my number.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>RUDE</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>BUT ANYWAYS GET DRESSED NOW</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WEAR SMTH PRETTY</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:14am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…..dont you have a boyfriend?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:15am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NOT LIKE THAT YOU P E R V</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:15am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i mean like…… wear something decent. Not like, pajamas</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:15am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:15am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Its a ~secret~</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:15am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>then i’m not doing it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>NONO OKAY OKAY</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ukai agreed to give u an interview and i forgot to tell u last night cause yknow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And the interview is in approximately 44 minutes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” The surprised yell left Akaashi’s lips before he could stop it, “What the fuck?!” Okay, okay, this was fucking great. He had forty five minutes to get dressed for an interview and actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> to the bar, despite the fact that he had no clue where it was, or how far away it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alright, no, he wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t panicking!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus christ i can hear you yelling from our apartment</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you asshole!” Akaashi yelled, glaring at the thick wall that separated him from his neighbours’ apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>okokokokoookkokokokokokok i know ur mad and i SHOULD have told you earlier but</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:16am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ill drive u there to make up for it and in return u dont kill me okay deal? Deal!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>(10:17am)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>fine. i’ll be ready in twenty minutes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Once his surprise (and anger at Kuroo for not telling him earlier) faded, anxiety took its place. He was excited, but it had been years since he’d done a job interview. Kuroo had told him that his boss was ‘chill’, but Akaashi wasn’t exactly sure how true that was. On top of that, he hadn’t had </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> time to prepare. But it wasn’t like he had a choice; the bar was his only good option at this point, and he could only hope he’d be able to semi-bullshit his way into a job.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If Kuroo can do it, so can I.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That thought calmed him down significantly. Kuroo was, to put it lightly, a mess at times. This being one of them. If he’d managed to get a job at the bar, maybe that meant Akaashi would stand a pretty good chance. He set his phone aside, ignoring the buzzing as he made his way to his bedroom to change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As promised, he stepped out of his apartment about twenty minutes later, dressed ‘pretty’ as Kuroo had so eloquently put it. He’d decided on a pair of dark jeans and a simple white button up, knowing anything else would be much too formal for a job interview at a bar. He’d also put in his contacts and attempted to brush his hair. He could only hope it was acceptable enough. He knocked on the door to his neighbours apartment, resisting the urge to fidget as he heard someone yell for him to come in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have been a burglar or something,” Keiji commented as he stepped into the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of burglar knocks?” Bokuto scoffed around a mouthful of popcorn, looking away from the movie he was watching. Kenma was sitting on the armchair, curled up in a ball as he played his game, but he looked up just long enough to give Keiji a wave. Kuroo was nowhere in sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A polite one?” Akaashi shrugged, waving back to Kenma, “Where’s Kuroo-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here! Let’s go,” Kuroo stepped out of one of the bedrooms, hopping on one foot as he pulled on his sock. Akaashi resisted the urge to roll his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have fun,” Kenma commented without looking up from his game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck, Kaashi!” Bokuto grinned, giving him a wave goodbye as he and Kuroo stepped out of the apartment. The second the door closed behind them, Akaashi promptly whacked the side of Kuroo’s head before walking towards the elevator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! What was that for?” Kuroo whined, rubbing his head as he followed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For not telling me I had an interview at eleven in the morning,” Akaashi grumbled. He’d mostly gotten over his annoyance, but he still felt like Kuroo deserved that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright, fine! But I’ll get you there on time, promise. It’s really not that far, but traffic…” Kuroo trailed off, shoving his hands in his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re late, I will actually kill you.” Keiji threatened, fighting off a sigh as he glanced at his phone. He had no idea how long the drive was, and he could only hope that Kuroo would pull through and get him there on time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, have some faith, will ya?” Kuroo put a hand over his heart, feigning offence as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, “I have a secret weapon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t trust whatever this ‘weapon’ is,” Keiji deadpanned, reluctantly following Kuroo towards the parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just something that’ll let us… bypass most of the traffic, is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about the grin on Kuroo’s face unnerved him even more, but he stopped in his tracks the moment he caught sight of what his neighbour was referring to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not a chance.” Akaashi crossed his arms, watching as Kuroo came to a stop in front of a large motorcycle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, it’s totally safe! I have extra helmets and everything, you’ll be fine!” Kuroo assured, holding out a black helmet out to Akaashi. The fact that the paint was slightly scuffed up didn’t exactly help his nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not getting on that thing.” Keiji shook his head. There were a lot of things Akaashi was willing to try; roller coasters, scary movies, weird food. But motorcycles were where he drew the line. He’d seen people weaving in and out of traffic on the damn things, pulling stupid moves and leaning for turns to the point where they were almost parallel with the ground. He wanted to live, thank you very much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi, it’s this or nothing. There’s no way we’re getting there on time in a car,” Kuroo pointed out, “It’s completely safe, I promise. I’ve had it for years and I’ve never crashed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi just looked at him suspiciously, eyes flicking between the helmet and the motorcycle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think I’d put you in danger on purpose?” Kuroo spoke again when Akaashi didn’t make any attempt to put on the helmet. Keiji thought about it for a moment, ignoring Kuroo’s scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. But if I die-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, quit being dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If. I. Die-” Akaashi continued anyways, “Then I am coming back as a ghost, and I will make your entire life a living hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine by me,” Kuroo shrugged, grinning a bit as Akaashi reluctantly put on the helmet, taking a moment to adjust the straps before climbing on the back of the bike, “Hold on tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was Keiji’s only warning. A moment later they were pulling out of the parking lot much too fast for Akaashi’s liking, and his arms immediately went around Kuroo’s torso. He couldn’t hear it over the sound of the bike and the wind, but he felt the shaking in Kuroo’s shoulders that made it clear he was laughing. Akaashi just clutched the man in front of him for dear life, eyes squeezed shut. After about a minute of internal dialogue that consisted solely of every swear word in his vocabulary, Keiji finally forced himself to open his eyes. His heart was beating in his throat as he watched the pavement fly beneath the bike in a blur of grey, squeezing Kuroo tighter as they wove between cars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later they stopped at a red light for the first time, and Akaashi finally let himself relax for a moment. Alright, he’d admit, it hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected. But he wasn’t exactly enjoying the experience either. He definitely preferred cars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You all good back there?” Kuroo had to yell to be heard through his helmet and over the sound of the bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” Akaashi yelled back, biting the inside of his cheek as they started driving again. When they finally stopped and Kuroo turned off the bike, Akaashi let out a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was fun, right?” Kuroo grinned, pulling off his helmet and looking back. Akaashi just let out a huff, pulling off the helmet and attempting to fix his hair, “Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Keiji admitted with a sigh, handing Kuroo the helmet, “Thank you for the ride.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Kuroo grinned, stepping off the bike, “Lets head in, I’ll introduce ya to Ukai.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji opened his mouth to insist that Kuroo really didn’t need to do that, but he’d already walked through the front doors of the bar before Akaashi could even speak. With a soft sigh he followed after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting inside the bar. Despite the fact that the sun was high in the sky outside, the single room was just barely illuminated by the hanging lights and gaudy LED signs along the walls. What few windows existed were all covered up by what Keiji could only assume were curtains made specifically to block the light. The sunshine from outside became nothing more than a faint glow behind the dark fabric. He could only assume that the dim lighting was supposed to add to the ambiance of the place, but it was still odd, as if Keiji’s sense of time had suddenly been warped. As expected for 11am, the bar was practically empty. There were a few guys at the end of the bar, though they seemed to be there more to keep the bartender entertained, not to drink. Keiji watched the group curiously for a moment. They seemed close, from what he could tell; he couldn’t help but wonder if his newly found friends would visit him if he ever got stuck working an early shift at the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook off the thought as quickly as it came; he had to focus on </span>
  <em>
    <span>getting</span>
  </em>
  <span> the job before he could even think about how he’d keep himself entertained on shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Ukai’s probably in the back. He never comes out unless it’s an emergency, or one of his buddies shows up,” Kuroo waved for Akaashi to follow him, stepping behind the bar. Keiji hesitated slightly, only continuing to walk when Kuroo looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The back area of the bar was crammed with boxes and shelves of alcohol bottles. Keiji had to step over quite a few boxes as he followed Kuroo through the mess; it almost seemed as if someone had gotten halfway through taking inventory and simply gave up. Eventually they came to a small door in the corner of the storage room, and to Keiji’s horror, Kuroo simply walked in without bothering to knock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ukai, buddy! Got your newest recruit,” Kuroo grinned, immediately sitting himself down on the corner of the desk. The man sitting behind it looked up, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he narrowed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m your boss, y’know. Quit bargin’ in here like you own the place,” Ukai grumbled, but there was no venom behind his words; Akaashi could only assume the man had gotten used to Kuroo’s ridiculous antics. He looked pretty young to own a bar; if Akaashi had to guess, he’d say the blond man was barely 30. He had a couple ear piercings, Keiji could see them glinting when he turned his head to look at him, and his eyebrows were pinched together in a look of frustration as he pushed aside the papers in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Kuroo waved him off, grinning, “This is the guy I told you about yesterday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi, right?” Ukai addressed him for the first time, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir,” Akaashi nodded, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, get your ass outta here,” Ukai shoved Kuroo off the desk, “You don’t need to sit in on his interview.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Kuroo faked a pout as he made his way towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cause you’re an annoying prick,” Ukai retorted, snorting a bit as Kuroo let out an offended gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not wrong..</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi thought to himself, fighting off an amused smile as Kuroo stepped out of the room. He stood in place awkwardly for a moment, watching as Ukai shuffled around some papers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can sit, y’know,” Ukai commented, seemingly amused by Akaashi’s hesitance. He nodded a bit, resisting the urge to feel embarrassed as he sat down on one of the empty chairs in front of the desk, “So, tell me about yourself. Are you a student?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, sir” Akaashi shook his head, “I graduated this past year, I’m currently working as a writer.” He thought over his words for a moment, “Well… </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to work as a writer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ukai nodded a little, leaning back in his chair, “You can drop the sir. It makes me feel old,” He commented, continuing when Akaashi nodded, “How old are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m turning 21 in December,” He answered, “I graduated high school early, and took on extra credits in University to graduate early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Ukai chuckled a little, “What’re you doing tryna work at a bar? You seem more like an office job type.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really need the money,” Keiji admitted. He had a feeling that if he lied, Ukai would see right through him, “My degrees are in film and creative writing. Many jobs in the area require different degrees or certain experience that I don’t have, and I haven’t been able to find a publisher interested in my writing yet. When I mentioned I was looking for a job, Kuroo-san suggested I try to get one here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least you’re honest,” Ukai’s lips pulled up into an amused smile, “You have no clue how many people I get in here, waxing poetry about how working in a bar is their dream job. Most of ‘em are students looking to score free alcohol.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that must get frustrating,” Akaashi commented, “But I assure you, I want to work. I don’t intend to use this job as a way to get any perks or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured as much, you don’t exactly seem like the type,” Ukai laughed, “Then again, you’re friends with that Rooster-head, so you never know.” Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi wasn’t sure how long his ‘interview’ lasted. It seemed much more like just a casual conversation, with Ukai occasionally throwing in questions that were semi-related to the job. Keiji continued to answer them as honestly as possible, knowing that lying now would only put him in a bad situation if he were to actually get the job. Eventually Ukai leaned back in his chair, ashing out his cigarette and going silent for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, when can you start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly schooled his features back into a blank expression, “As soon as possible,” He answered, resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. This week’s schedule is already made up, so I’ll put you in for a couple training shifts starting next week,” Ukai ruffled through a couple papers, “First I just need you to sign some stuff, I’ll need your direct deposit information if you don’t want to be paid in cheques.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So.. I’m hired?” Akaashi asked. He knew it was a stupid question, but he still wanted to absolutely confirm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ukai laughed a bit as he set a small stack of papers in front of Akaashi, handing him a pen, “Yeah. I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t hire ya, you seem dedicated to your work. And you seem a lot more…. Normal than the rest of my employees,” He snorted a little, “Maybe you’ll have a good influence on some of ‘em.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t promise anything..” Akaashi admitted, skimming over the pages in front of him as he filled in his information and signed them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know,” Ukai smiled a bit, “I’ll get Kuroo to let you know what shifts you’re working next week. I’m looking forward to having you here,” With that he stood up, and Keiji did the same, handing over the signed papers with a small bow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you again. I’m grateful for this opportunity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a sigh of relief as soon as he’d stepped out of the office. He’d worried for nothing; he wasn’t even sure there had been anything in the interview he could have really prepared for, and in the end he had gotten the job despite his lack of experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Akaashi almost jumped a bit as Kuroo’s head popped in from the door leading to the bar, a wide grin on his face, “Didya get the job?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” He answered, nodding as he walked towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? Told ya you had nothing to worry about!” Kuroo slapped him on the back, much lighter than Bokuto always did, but still hard enough to make him gasp slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess… you were right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say it like that!” Kuroo huffed, leading him towards the bar doors, “You make it sound like it pains you to say that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does,” Keiji deadpanned, squinting as they stepped back out into the sunny street. It felt like his corneas were being deep fried as he tried to adjust to the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you’re an asshole,” Kuroo retorted, but there was no anger or venom in his words. More than anything, it sounded like he was trying to fight back a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. I’m aware.” Akaashi fought off a smile, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t a compliment!” Kuroo elbowed him in the side as he climbed into his bike, holding a helmet out to Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t saying thank you for that, you dunce. I was thanking you for getting me an interview,” Akaashi deadpanned, pulling on the helmet and clipping the strap beneath his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kuroo looked taken aback, a slight grin on his face, “Well, make it clearer then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Thank you for getting me this interview, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi repeated, climbing onto the back of the bike. He was significantly less anxious this time around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” Kuroo had pulled on his helmet, but Keiji could still practically hear the grin in his voice. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else; before he was ready, the bike roared to life and Kuroo sped away from the curb. Akaashi’s arms immediately went around his torso, holding on for dear life as the wind whipped at his clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He resisted the urge to jab Kuroo in the ribs when he felt him shake with laughter. He settled for just rolling his eyes; he really didn’t want to risk the idiot crashing the bike and killing them both.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i wanna say thank u guys for supporting my writing and liking my stories, and dealing with my occasional writers block;; i always appreciate it, because as much as i write for myself, i still love knowing that other ppl like my story ideas as much as i do</p><p>as always, kudos/comments are always appreciated, even if i dont reply i do read them all &lt;3</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He’d spent Saturday night at his neighbours apartment, watching b-rate horror movies with takeout in his lap. Kuroo had stated it was a ‘congratulations’ for finding his first job in the city - Bokuto had even pulled out a slightly crumpled party hat for the occasion. He’d spent most of the night resisting the urge to laugh every time Bokuto got scared at a bad jump scare - which happened a lot - and Akaashi had gone home that night feeling much lighter than he had in awhile, unable to keep his lips from turning up into a smile as he laid in his bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His neighbours were far from normal, that was for sure. But Keiji was quickly finding that he enjoyed the spontaneity that came along with his newfound friendships. He doubted any of the people he’d been ‘friends’ with in University would go so far as to throw a mini party in celebration of getting a job. In all honesty, he doubted </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> would do that sort of thing. But his neighbours had. And they’d done it for him..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi spent the following days holed up in his apartment, sitting on the couch hunched over his computer. He wasn’t sure if it was the relief at finally finding a job, or some other factor, but he’d woken up Sunday morning with a ridiculous amount of inspiration. It wasn’t something he felt often, and there was no way in hell he was going to pass up on the prime opportunity to write. He only got up from his position a handful of times; to eat, or sleep, or occasionally stretch when the ache in his spine got too painful to bear. But for almost three days straight he stayed in front of his laptop, headphones blasting music in his ears as his fingers cramped from typing so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye he could see the sunlight beginning to ebb away; summer was leaving quickly, the telltale chill of autumn settling across the city. The sun was setting much earlier too; it was barely seven in the evening, and already Keiji was reaching over to preemptively turn on his lamp. He personally had no issue with the weather changing; he’d never liked summer much. The heat was always too much for him, and he had always preferred warm sweaters and jeans to shorts and tank tops anyways. Summer had always just seemed.... Boring. Keiji was stuck at home, holed up in his bedroom aside from the occasional walk around his neighbourhood. He had no school or work to keep him busy, not until high school when he began taking summer courses in the hopes of graduating early, and summer always had made him painfully aware of how lonely he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Autumn was nice, though. The weather was cool, the leaves turned pretty colours and Akaashi finally would have something to occupy his thoughts. Even though he wasn’t in school anymore, wasn’t constantly waiting for the moment he’d have a chance to focus on something other than his own lack of friends, he still enjoyed the season.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi pulled himself out of his thoughts after a moment, letting out a sigh as he deleted the final sentence of the paragraph he’d been writing. He needed to stop getting distracted when he was writing; it always ended in typos or odd grammar, or occasionally just random blurbs of his own thoughts that had absolutely nothing to do with his story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Akaashi focused his thoughts back on his work, he got the odd feeling that he was being watched. When he turned his head, he was met with Bokuto’s wide eyes barely half a foot away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy fuck!” Akaashi jumped back, falling off the couch. His head hit the carpet with a low thud, his headphones being pulled out of his ears as he scrambled to sit up, “Bokuto-san, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you doing in my apartment?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry!” Bokuto immediately stood up straight, looking incredibly guilty, “Is your head okay? Do you have a concussion? God, I’m so sorry!” He leaned down, grabbing Akaashi’s face and looking at his eyes for any sign of a head injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi had trouble speaking, considering the fact that his cheeks were currently being squished together by Bokuto’s hands. He made a face when he was finally let go, reaching up to rub the back of his head. He ignored the tug of an unknown emotion in his chest when Bokuto’s hands let go of his face, leaving the skin feeling cold where his calloused fingers had been just moments before, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> are you in my apartment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Well, we were texting you and you didn’t answer. Kuroo called ya too, and when I knocked you didn’t say anything. You haven’t really said much over the past few days, and I was worried, cause your door was unlocked, and uh…” Bokuto’s hand went to the back of his neck, his eyes staring at the floor, “I dunno, I thought something happened. ‘M sorry, don’t hate me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh, standing up from his spot on the floor and setting his headphones on the coffee table, “I wouldn’t hate you for something like this, Bokuto-san. Though I would prefer if you avoid breaking into my apartment from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it!” Bokuto nodded, almost looking like a bobble head. His guilt seemed to subside slightly when Akaashi assured him that no, he didn’t hate him, but he still looked slightly downcast. Keiji felt his stomach twist slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, for worrying about my wellbeing. But I’ve just been writing. I got hit with inspiration Sunday morning, and I’ve been trying to finish my first draft,” He explained, letting out a silent sigh of relief when Bokuto perked up at the thanks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you don’t have to thank me!” In a matter of second he went from guilty to almost bashful, waving off Akaashi’s thanks, “I’m just doing what a good friend would do, y’know, protecting ya and all that.” Keiji didn’t have the heart to point out the fact that Bokuto hadn’t truly protected him from anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something you needed?” He asked, reaching down to shut his laptop, “Or did you just want to check on me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right!” Bokuto punched his own hand. Akaashi found it amusing that Bokuto almost always needed to be reminded of the fact that he had actually come to his apartment with a reason, “We’re having a couple friends over tonight for like, a game night! We do it every week, and it’s our turn to host, so I wanted to ask if you, uh.. Wanted to come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s lips pulled up into a slight smile at Bokuto’s hesitance, but his amusement was replaced by anxiety a moment later. He had yet to meet any of his neighbours' other friends; he’d heard a couple names in passing, but that was all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re busy writing, that’s totally fine! But, uh, Kenma mentioned the idea of inviting you and I kinda realized that we hadn’t introduced you to our other friends yet!” Bokuto rambled, running a hand through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure they’d be alright with it?” Keiji raised an eyebrow, “I don’t want to intrude, like you said, I don’t really know any of them…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t even worry about that!” Bokuto waved him off, “We’ve told them a bit about you. Some of them work at the bar with Kuroo, so it’ll be good to meet them before you start working too! I promise, they won’t have any problem with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji thought it over for a moment; he really hadn’t expected his neighbours to make any attempt to introduce him to their other friends. They’d made passing comments about introducing him to new people because, as Kuroo had put it, “Kaashi has absolutely no friends other than us, and it’s our responsibility to make him less socially awkward”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he’d gotten a whack on the head for that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But despite that, they had yet to invite him to meet any of their friends. Akaashi was definitely fine with that; he assumed their friend group was large, considering the amount of names he’d heard thrown around in conversation, and honestly he would probably feel awkward surrounded by people he didn’t know. However, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been somewhat neglecting his friendship with his neighbours over the past few days; he’d only sent messages to the groupchat a handful of times, and even though he’d been getting work done, he felt slightly guilty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, it sounds like fun,” Akaashi nodded, “What time would you like me to come over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Bokuto seemed surprised that Akaashi had agreed, hopping in place a bit as an outlet for his excitement, “Hell yeah! Okay, come by in like, an hour, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto didn’t even give him a chance to answer before he’d bolted out of his apartment, slamming the door behind him. Keiji used his hand to muffle a laugh, making his way towards his bathroom in search of a shower.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Kuroo glanced away from the television when he heard the door open, raising an eyebrow as he watched Bokuto practically skip into the apartment. He didn’t move from his position, keeping his legs on either side of Kenma and his arms around his waist as he watched Bokuto slip off his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing he said yes?” Kuroo teased, lifting his head from where it was resting on Kenma’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup! I told him to come by in an hour or so,” Bokuto plopped down on the couch next to his boyfriends, leaning his entire weight against Kuroo. He momentarily wondered when he’d become the designated pillow in the relationship, but he didn’t care enough to focus on the thought. He definitely didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure this is a good idea?” Kuroo commented, looking at Kenma. His eyes were still focused on the television, fingers tapping away at the buttons on his controller, “I mean, Oikawa isn’t exactly the best at keeping his mouth shut. Especially when he gets alcohol in him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We already told them all not to mention anything about our relationship,” Kenma commented, “Tooru may be a shithead sometimes, but he’s not the type to expose something like that in front of a stranger. Not even when he’s hammered. Everyone else too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair point,” Kuroo nodded a bit, resting his chin back on Kenma’s shoulder, “I’m almost surprised he said yes, though. He basically disappeared after Saturday, I was almost worried he was avoiding us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Apparently he’s been writing the whole time,” Bokuto said, reaching for the half-empty bag of chips that was sitting, abandoned, on the coffee table, “He’s tryna get his first draft finished.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, that guy is a masochist or something. I can’t imagine just… sitting down and </span>
  <em>
    <span>writing</span>
  </em>
  <span> for three days.” Kuroo’s nose scrunched up a bit at the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s cause you suck at writing,” Kenma commented, a slight smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m not that-” Kuroo cut himself off when Bokuto and Kenma both shot him an unimpressed look, “Okay, fine, I suck at writing. But I’m good at math ‘n shit! That makes up for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember that poem you tried to write?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, tilting his head back to look up at Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no clue</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you’re talking about,” Kuroo shot him a glare, heat beginning to creep up the back of his neck. They had both agreed to keep that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>secret.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Poem? What Poem?” Bokuto’s attention was immediately pulled away from the chips as he looked between Kuroo and Kenma with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we were trying to decide how we were going to confess to you, Tetsu wrote a poem. It was horrible, but I think I still have it somewhere,” Kenma interrupted him, not breaking eye contact with Kuroo. For a moment he wondered what the hell kind of sin he’d committed to warrant this shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?!” Kuroo’s words almost came out as a squeak, cheeks lighting up in a blush at the idea of Bokuto ever seeing that god-awful thing. It had been a stupid idea he’d come up with, back in his first year of university. He and Kenma had already been dating at that point, but they’d both come to the realization that their feelings for their dumbass owl friend were a little more than just ‘friendly’. They’d spent </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span> agonizing over whether or not they should tell him, trying to figure out how the hell something like that would even work. When they’d decided to throw caution to the wind, they’d tried coming up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> they were going to do it. Kuroo, in a very common moment of complete idiocy, had suggested a poem. Kenma had immediately told him that was not a good idea, but he’d seen shit like that in romcoms before. It might have worked too, if Kuroo wasn’t so bad with poetry. He’d written it anyways, only to immediately throw it out as soon as he’d shown Kenma and realized just how horrible it was. Their actual confession had been much less cheesy, and a lot more fitting for them. Kuroo’d ended up kissing Bokuto in a drunken haze, and the rest was history. But he’d been confident that that damned poem was gone for good, burnt up by some garbage incinerator never to be seen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little demon must’ve picked the damn thing out of the trash or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huuh!?” Bokuto gasped as Kenma mentioned that he still had it, “I wanna read it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Kuroo immediately scrambled to stand up, taking extra care not to kick Kenma as he did so, “It’s literally the worst thing in the world, you are not seeing that thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, Tetsu!” Bokuto pouted, “I don’t care if it’s bad, I wanna see it! I wanna see what you thought of when you wanted to confess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, nope, never happening!” Kuroo shook his head, “And don’t pull that pout on me! That’s cheating!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s in the closet, in the little shoebox with all our photo albums,” Kenma piped up, clearly amused by the spectacle his boyfriends were causing. Kuroo froze, eyes wide as Bokuto immediately sprinted past him into the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a demon!” Kuroo shot a venomless glare in Kenma’s direction, his entire face red with a blush as he ran after Bokuto, cursing under his breath when he jiggled the doorknob to their bedroom only to find it locked, “Kou I </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Open the door, c’mon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Found it!” Bokuto yelled from inside, and Kuroo just wished the floor would swallow him whole. He didn’t remember exactly what was in that damn thing, but he knew it was bad. He let out a groan, rubbing his hands over his face as he waited for the taunts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They, surprisingly, never came. When the door finally unlocked, Kuroo was completely prepared to snatch the damn thing out of Bokuto’s hands and burn it, once and for all. What he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> prepared for was a teary-eyed Bokuto launching himself into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-Tetsurou!” He was practically wailing, arms wrapped so tightly around his waist that Kuroo was pretty sure he was gonna break a rib. He let out a noise of surprise when Bokuto suddenly hoisted him into the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-Oi! Put me down, what’s gotten into ya?” Kuroo choked out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think I’m pretty?” Bokuto set him down after a moment, loosening his grip on Kuroo’s waist enough so he could breathe again. Kuroo coughed a bit, trying to catch his breath and ignoring the embarrassment gnawing at his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, dumbass! I’ve told you that plenty of times!” Kuroo huffed out, glancing off to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And my eyes? You really think they’re, uh-” Bokuto glanced at the paper in his hands, eyes skimming over the words, “Warm as molten gold, and just as bright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear god,” Kuroo groaned, resting his forehead on Bokuto’s shoulder, “Yes, yes, okay, can we shut up about the damn poem now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like it!” Bokuto declared, “It’s kinda bad, and really cheesy-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, thanks,” Kuroo joked, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush! It’s kinda bad, and cheesy, but it’s cute! I like knowing what you like about me!” Bokuto grinned widely, “You’re not allowed to throw it away, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was about to protest, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it when he saw the look on Bokuto’s face. Damn him for being so fucking cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine! Fine, I won’t throw it away,” Kuroo grumbled. Once Bokuto was sure he was telling the truth, he let go of him in favour of rushing over to Kenma, hopping over the back of the couch to sit beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you help write it?” He asked, wrapping his arms around Kenma’s waist as he played his game. Kuroo watched as the smaller man glanced over at Bokuto, seemingly torn over whether he should tell the truth or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it was all Kuro,” Kenma answered, letting out a soft sigh when Bokuto deflated almost immediately, his smile dropping off his face, “But I read over it. If I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> gonna write one… I’d probably put in all the same things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Bokuto raised his eyebrows, his mood immediately bouncing back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.. I just didn’t think a poem was the right way to tell you any of that stuff. I couldn’t..” Kenma trailed off, clearing his throat before he continued to speak. Kuroo could see his blush from all the way across the room, “I could never put… how I feel about you or Tetsu into writing. I wouldn’t be able to do it justice.” Kenma spoke as if it physically pained him - words had never been his preferred way of expressing his feelings, but judging by the look on Bokuto’s face, he did a damn good job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto blinked owlishly, taking a moment to process Kenma’s words before he let out another choked wail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma!” Bokuto immediately flung himself on top of the smaller man, basically pinning him to the couch as he showered him in kisses, “I love you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo watched with a wide smile as Kenma’s arms wrapped around Bokuto’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss with a murmured “I love you too”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what about me? You included me in that cheesy fuckin’ statement!” Kuroo leaned his elbows against the back of the couch, pouting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I love you too,” Kenma retorted, a small smile pulling at his lips when Bokuto finally pulled away from the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, I feel so adored by my tiny demon boyfriend,” Kuroo said dramatically, putting a hand over his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up,” Kenma scoffed a bit, sitting up to press a kiss to Kuroo’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi was more nervous than he should have been as he stepped out of his apartment an hour later. He’d showered quickly, changing out of his slightly gross pajamas in favour of a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. He hadn’t bothered to deal with his contacts, knowing that they’d just start bugging him after a few hours and he’d have to go back to his apartment to switch them out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know exactly why the idea of hanging out with his neighbours friends worried him so much. Maybe he was afraid that they wouldn’t like him, or that he’d somehow ruin the mood by suddenly showing up. Despite Bokuto’s assurances that they wouldn’t mind, Keiji still couldn’t help but overthink. He wasn’t even sure how many people would be there, or any of their names. Bokuto had said a ‘couple’ friends, but with the amount of names he’d heard thrown around in conversation, he felt like there would be a lot more than a couple people there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a soft huff, reaching a hand up to knock on the door before his brain could convince him to turn on his heel and walk back to his apartment. He didn’t even have a chance to consider the possibility before the door swung open, and Akaashi felt the weight of someone’s arm settle around his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi’s here!” Bokuto’s voice yelled, much too loud in his ear. He felt his face heat up a little as he slipped off his shoes, the smell of alcohol already apparent on Bokuto’s breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t scream in my ear, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmured, letting out a silent sigh when the weight of Bokuto’s arm lifted from his shoulder. He refused to acknowledge the twisting feeling in his stomach that indicated the sigh wasn’t entirely one of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto just waved him off, dragging him into the apartment. To say it was packed would be an understatement; every available surface had </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> sitting on it, save for the coffee table which was being taken up by a stack of pizza boxes and various bottles of alcohol. Akaashi shouldn’t have been surprised </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems I’m a little late,” He commented, following Bokuto towards the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, blame Bokuto, he told you to come in an hour. He should’ve known that you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> wait an hour to show up,” Kuroo grinned a bit from his place on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shuddup,” Bokuto elbowed him lightly in the side as he plopped into the space beside him. Akaashi took a seat on the floor beside the coffee table, settling himself between two of the strangers. It was slightly awkward, but it was better than standing off to the side. “This is ‘Kaashi, he lives in the apartment beside us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few people who had previously been caught up in conversation turned to look at him, and he raised a hand in an awkward wave. He felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at him, but thankfully the silence was broken by the man to his right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be a saint to put up with those three,” He commented, a slight smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you all have to put up with them too?” Keiji pointed out, lips quirking up in an amused smirk when Bokuto and Kuroo both squawked out some bullshit about how they ‘weren’t so bad’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why am I being lumped in with them?” Kenma muttered, glancing up from his game with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t pretend you’re innocent, Pudding-chan!” The man to Akaashi’s left pointed at Kenma in an accusatory manner. Kenma just raised an eyebrow, looking back to his phone after a moment of staring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He might actually kill you this time, Oinks,” Kuroo teased, wrapping an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Daichi, by the way,” The man to Akaashi’s right - Daichi - leaned a little closer to talk over the sound of ‘Oinks’ and Kuroo bickering, “And to answer your question; we do, but we don’t have to put up with their shit 24/7. You live beside them, it’s a little different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Point taken,” Akaashi chuckled softly, remembering the incident with Bokuto earlier in the evening. He wasn’t going to admit that he quite enjoyed having to deal with his neighbours' antics, even when it involved one of them basically breaking into his apartment. He</span>
  <em>
    <span> certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t going to admit it when the three people in question were within earshot. Even if Kenma wouldn’t comment on it, Bokuto and Kuroo would certainly do enough teasing to make up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright! Quit it you two,” The man sitting beside ‘Oinks’ spoke up, cutting his and Kuroo’s bickering short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iwa-chan!” The brunet put a hand over his chest, feigning offense, “You’re supposed to be on my side!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one wants to listen to you two going back and forth,” The spiky-haired man rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are we still waiting on?” Bokuto asked, clearly trying to change the subject before another bickering match broke out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suga’s on his way, apparently the girl working the overnight shift was having issues with her car, so he offered to stay an extra hour until she got there,” Daichi answered first, “I think he’s the only one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised an eyebrow; just how many people were in this friend group? He did a quick count; including himself and his neighbours, there were already fourteen people crammed into the living room. With this ‘Suga’ person, that made it fifteen. How anyone could be expected to keep up with a friend group that large, Keiji didn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, we’ll just wait for him then. He shouldn’t be too long,” Kuroo shrugged, “Oh, fuck. Akaashi doesn’t know anyone's names,” He was thankful that Kuroo had brought it up, because there was no way in hell he would’ve done it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Daichi’s. And.. Oinks?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, feeling his face heat up when Kuroo immediately burst out in some fairly unattractive laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one correct him!” Kuroo immediately wheezed out, ignoring the glare that got shot in his direction. Akaashi felt like he was missing something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name’s Oikawa, Tetsu-chan is just an asshole!” Oikawa reached over Akaashi to punch the man in the knee, effectively cutting off his laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Akaashi glanced over at Oikawa, “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, he earned the nickname anyways,” Kuroo grinned, still obviously amused by Keiji’s mistake, “Alright, the angry guy sitting beside Oinks is Iwaizumi, manbun is Asahi, the little guy sitting beside him is Noya-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck are you calling little, eeeh?!” The man - Noya - set down his bottle of beer, shooting a glare in Kuroo’s direction. He ignored it, continuing on as Akaashi mentally catalogued everyone’s names.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They both work at the bar, so does the bald one - Tanaka. The one currently drinking milk is Kageyama, the other short one is Hinata,” Kuroo listed off, “The angry one with the glasses is Tsukki, and freckles is Yamaguchi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Tsukishima,” The blond shot an unimpressed look in Kuroo’s direction, bringing the bottle of vodka in his hands up to his lips and downing a mouthful. Keiji resisted the urge to cringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, Tsukki,” Kuroo waved him off, grinning, “and then obviously, Suga’s the one who isn’t here yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sort of assumed,” Akaashi said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get smart with me,” Kuroo pointed a finger in his direction, “There’s some coolers in the fridge if you want one, or there’s the liquor.” He gestured to the variety of bottles on the table. Keiji didn’t really plan on getting drunk, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been a fairly long time since he’d had a drink. He reached forward, grabbing the bottle of cheap tequila off the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are there cups anywhere?” He raised an eyebrow, “Or a shot glass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just down it from the bottle, no one else really drinks tequila,” Kuroo shrugged, smirking a little, “Unless you’re too scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, Keiji liked to believe that he wasn’t the type of person to give in to Kuroo’s challenges. In reality though, he was far from it; he was pretty sure he’d proved that enough that first day they’d met, when he’d purposely bought extra food out of spite towards a stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to come up with better taunts, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi deadpanned, twisting off the top of the bottle and taking a mouthful of the bitter liquid. It burned his throat on the way down - the fact that he hadn’t drank in over a month, plus the lack of a chaser, didn’t help - and he had to actively resist the urge to cough. Kuroo just looked smug, and Keiji knew that no matter how bad his taunts were, he’d still fallen for them. Before Kuroo could say anything else, a knock on the door cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must be Suga,” Daichi commented, glancing over his shoulder as Bokuto yelled for the person to come in. Keiji glanced towards the door, taking another - much smaller - sip from the bottle as he watched the newcomer step into the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sorry I’m late,” He gave a small smile to the group as he stripped off his jacket, immediately walking into the living room and sitting himself down in Daichi’s lap. Now, he may not be well-versed in the idea of relationships, but he didn’t doubt that the two of them were together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that he thought about it, it seemed that most of the group were dating each other. Bokuto and Kuroo were obvious, as was Suga and Daichi. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had been holding hands since Keiji had arrived. Oikawa and Iwaizumi also seemed fairly close, as did Asahi and Noya. Kageyama and Hinata had been bickering for the past few minutes, but they were also sitting so close that Hinata was practically on the Kageyama’s lap. If he had to guess, he would probably say that he, Kenma, and the bald guy - Tanaka, was it? - were the only ones who didn’t have a partner within the group.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, that explains why there's so many of them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, can we start now?” Oikawa spoke once everyone was finished saying their hellos, “We’ve been waiting </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We showed up fifteen minutes ago,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, “Quit being dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, he’s right, let’s get on with it.” Kuroo grinned, reaching towards the middle of the table, “Oh, Suga. That’s Akaashi,” He gestured in his direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Suga glanced over at him, giving him a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you,” Akaashi gave a polite nod in return, taking another sip of tequila.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, what game are we playing?” Daichi asked, his arms settled around Sugawara’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, drumroll please!” Kuroo threw his hands in the air, pouting slightly as no one except for Bokuto, Noya, and Hinata did the noise, “Our choices tonight are; strip poker, never have i ever, and whatever card game Noya brought.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are not playing strip poker again,” Iwaizumi spoke up immediately, nose scrunching up at the mention of the first option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boo! It’s fun, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa elbowed him in the side, “You don’t like it cause you always lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, everyone vote! Put your hand up if you want strip poker,” Kuroo glanced around; Suga, Oikawa, Tsukishima, and Bokuto all put their hands up immediately. Both Suga and Oikawa got death glares from their respective boyfriends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, what about never have I ever?” Kuroo, Daichi, Yamaguchi, Akaashi, Kageyama, Asahi, and Kenma all put their hands up for that one. Keiji figured it sounded like the safest option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Noya’s game?” Noya (obviously), Tanaka, Hinata, and Iwaizumi all voted for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, never have I ever wins!” Bokuto grinned, “We’ll re-vote for a second game if it comes to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji had never really played many party games; the closest he got to ‘partying’ was the occasional outing to the bar near his University campus when he needed a distraction from his work. He was actually a little excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, rules, since no one in this room ever remembers them!” Kuroo shot a pointed look in Bokuto’s direction, “You say something you’ve never done, if anyone has done the thing, they drink. First one to run out of alcohol, or throw up, loses!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could someone pass me a cooler, please?” He commented, gesturing to the cooler that was sitting on the other side of the room. Akaashi was far from a lightweight, but he had a feeling that he would be the first one to throw up if he had to play with tequila.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boring! You chose tequila, at least stick with it!” Kuroo jeered. Keiji narrowed his eyes, shooting a glare at Kuroo. Again; he could take the high road, ignoring the taunts and taking the cooler Asahi had pulled out of the cooler. But just because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t mean he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll use tequila if you use vodka,” He retorted, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make the guy puke his guts out the first time he hangs out with us!” Suga scolded, “You’re gonna scare him off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am much better at handling alcohol than I look,” He commented, “And I don’t scare that easily. Like I said; I’ll use tequila if Kuroo uses vodka.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo seemed to consider it for a moment, before reaching forward to grab an untouched bottle of vodka off the table, “It’s a deal.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i couldnt help myself, drunk antics are always fun to write lol</p><p>as always, thank you all for supporting the story, comments/kudos are always appreciated!! &lt;3</p><p>**Come yell at me on tumblr @Kuidore!!!**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took three turns before Akaashi started to regret showing up at his neighbours apartment at all. As someone who had never in his life played ‘Never have I ever’, Keiji had no clue how the game would pan out. However, as someone who knew Kuroo Tetsurou, he definitely should’ve expected that it wouldn’t go by without some sort of incident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suga was up first, calling dibs as soon as everyone had settled down with their drink of choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever worn glasses!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s bullshit!” Oikawa immediately huffed, taking a sip of his drink. Tsukishima and Akaashi both took their penalty in silence, and Kuroo grumbled a couple curse words as he downed a mouthful of vodka. Keiji raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything; he’d never seen Kuroo wearing glasses, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>walking around constantly squinting at things. Akaashi had just assumed it was a part of his attempts to look ‘suave and intimidating’ - Kuroo’s words, not his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever passed out drunk in a 7/11 parking lot,” Daichi was up next, a small smirk pulling at his lips as both Tanaka and Nishinoya reluctantly took a drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel targeted,” Noya grumbled, leaning against Asahi with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it was Kuroo’s turn. He should’ve known from the moment Kuroo insisted he use liquor that things were not going to end well for him. But to be fair, he really had not expected Kuroo to blatantly target him right off the bat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever written a book,” He grinned a little. Keiji resisted the urge to roll his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technically I’m not finished the book,” He pointed out, but he downed a mouthful of tequila anyway, “I hope you know this ‘targeting’ thing goes both ways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m so scared,” Kuroo teased, pulling Bokuto closer to his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough bickering,” Kenma shook his head a bit, slipping his phone into his pocket for the first time that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright! Never have I ever not made it to nationals!” Bokuto grinned a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Low blow, asshole!” Oikawa grumbled, reluctantly taking a sip of his drink. Iwaizumi did the same, letting out an annoyed huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nationals for what sport?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Volleyball,” Daichi answered him, and Keiji nodded in understanding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you played volleyball?” Bokuto’s eyes went wide as Akaashi didn’t take a drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. My school was the Kochi prefecture representative in my third year, we were eliminated in the second round.” He answered, pulling his legs up so he could rest his chin on his knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, we get it, you guys went to nationals,” Oikawa pouted a bit, “Who’s next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s bitter ‘cause his team always lost to Shiratorizawa,” Kuroo whisper-yelled at Akaashi, laughing as Oikawa threw a balled-up napkin at his head. Keiji couldn’t help a slight smile when the projectile hit Kuroo directly in the forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma, your go,” Bokuto elbowed him in the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I have to play?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” About six separate voices all spoke up to answer his question, earning a soft huff in return.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever owned multiple t-shirts with chemistry puns on them.” Kenma said, lips pulling up into a slight smile when Kuroo let out an annoyed groan. Akaashi resisted the urge to grin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chemistry puns? Really?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know whether it was cute or embarrassing. After a moment of thought, he hurriedly settled on the latter. When the hell had his brain had come to the conclusion that anything about Kuroo Tetsurou was </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Akaashi didn’t even want to think about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, now I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> people targeting me?” He whined, downing a mouthful of vodka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You deserve it,” Akaashi and Kenma spoke in unison, sharing an amused look as Kuroo let out a huff, muttering something about nothing being fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My go!” Tanaka grinned, “Never have I ever been gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on!” Oikawa threw his hands up, “That’s bullshit! You’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m bi, not gay,” Tanaka smirked, cutting Oikawa off before he could finish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yeah,” Kuroo grinned a bit, “Finally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo, Tanaka, and Yamaguchi were the only ones who didn’t drink that round.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when are you gay?!” Bokuto squawked, looking at Akaashi with wide eyes for the second time in five minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Is that a rhetorical question?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, fighting off a laugh. Sure, he wasn’t exactly walking around telling strangers his sexuality, but he didn’t go out of his way to hide it either. There was a pride flag hanging above his bed for fucks sake, and he was almost certain his bedroom door had been open while Bokuto had been in his apartment on more than one occasion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means a question that’s not supposed to be answered,” Kenma supplied, rolling his eyes. He seemed to be the only one of his neighbours </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> surprised by the revelation. Akaashi wondered if it was because he’d had his suspicions, or because he was much better at hiding his thoughts than his roommates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you so shocked by, like, every one of his answers?” Suga snickered, “You three are the ones who actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> the guy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Volleyball and my sexuality never came up in conversation,” Akaashi answered, an amused smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went through the group fairly quickly. When it came to Akaashi’s turn, he figured he would take his chance to get some form of revenge on Kuroo for blatantly targeting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever harassed a stranger in a convenience store and then followed them home,” He shot a pointed look in Kuroo’s direction. They stared at each other for about ten seconds, Akaashi daring his neighbour to deny that he had to drink. After a few moments, Kuroo shook his head a bit, downing a mouthful of vodka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t follow you home, asshole,” He pouted a bit. Akaashi just raised his eyebrows in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you started it,” Keiji shrugged a bit, reaching to grab a slice of pizza off the table. The alcohol was starting to have an effect on him, a pleasant buzz settling through his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You harassed him in a convenience store?” Oikawa questioned, seemingly torn between concern and amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then followed him home?” Suga added on, tutting a bit, “No wonder you don’t have friends outside of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t harass him!” Kuroo huffed, glaring at Akaashi’s murmured ‘yes he did’, “And I didn’t follow him home! We live in the same complex, on the same floor!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.. sounds a bit too convenient to me,” Tsukishima joined in, obviously amused by Kuroo’s suffering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s exactly what I said,” Akaashi gestured in Tsukishima’s direction. The two of them shared a quick glance, both seeming to simultaneously decide to team up against Kuroo. At least Akaashi knew he’d have an ally in this shitshow of a game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How the hell did you get him to be your friend after that?” Iwaizumi snorted a bit, leaning his weight back on his hands. Oikawa was laying down with his head in his lap, already drunk despite the fact that he’d just started on his third drink. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been chugging every time he had to drink for the game, but still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I clearly have bad judgement,” Akaashi answered for him, snorting softly as Kuroo mocked his words in a high-pitched voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all do,” Suga snickered a little, “Never have I ever had a body count in the double digits.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we talking sex or murder?” Kuroo joked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sex, obviously,” Suga deadpanned, shaking his head a little, “Not that it matters to you, you wouldn’t be drinking either way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you! How do you know how high my body count is?” Kuroo scoffed, putting a hand over his chest, “I could be a total, like.. Sex god!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Multiple people in the group openly laughed at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know because we’ve dealt with you,” Akaashi commented, taking a sip of his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah woah, wait. Was that for the game?” Suga raised an eyebrow, looking over at Akaashi with a grin. He resisted the blush that threatened to creep onto his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He answered, shooting Suga an unimpressed look. He had been hoping that it would go under the radar, but obviously he was an idiot to think</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Kaashi, I thought you were innocent!” Kuroo gasped, putting a hand over his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought very wrong, then,” The words slipped out of Akaashi’s mouth before he could stop them. Stupid alcohol, ruining his brain-to-mouth filter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at him,” Suga gestured wildly in Keiji’s direction, nearly slapping him in the face as he did so, “Does that really look like the face of someone who has a low body count?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Akaashi scoffed a little, eyebrows pinching in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re pretty! Pretty people, guys especially, always get a lot of attention,” Suga explained, shrugging a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would know, huh?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse you, I have been in a happily committed relationship since high school,” He stuck his tongue out at Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just bicker with everyone, don’t you?” Akaashi commented, looking at Kuroo with a raised eyebrow before he could respond to Suga’s words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not!” He scoffed, crossing his arms as Keiji just looked at him, unconvinced, “You shut up, you’re way too loud when you’re drunk. I’m gonna cut you off or something.” Akaashi resisted the urge to point out that he was clearly more sober than Kuroo was. He was already starting to sway where he sat, leaning against Bokuto for support - not that Bokuto was any better. He’d been chugging half a beer every time he had to drink, and his face was tinted a bright red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I say let him drink more!” Noya grinned, “Anyone who knocks Kuroo’s ego down a peg is good in my books.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m with Noya on that one!” Oikawa raised his arm into the air, toasting with his water bottle since Iwaizumi had made the executive decision to cut him off from the alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems like you’re outnumbered,” Akaashi smirked slightly, tilting his head as if daring Kuroo to argue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a demon. Why are all the pretty ones demons?” Kuroo grumbled, shifting to put his feet up on the coffee table as the rest of the group simply laughed at his feigned misery. Keiji felt his stomach clench slightly at the ‘pretty’ comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Must be the alcohol.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi wasn’t entirely sure what time it was when the game finally ended. He knew it was very late, and everyone was very, very drunk. He, Tsukishima, and Kenma had apparently all come to silent agreement that all of their turns were used specifically to target Kuroo, leaving the other with barely a quarter of his bottle of vodka left by that point. The only person completely sober was Kenma, who had declined alcohol in favour of soda for the night. Oikawa had been passed out for a long time, his head resting in Iwaizumi’s lap as he snored away. Hinata and Kageyama had followed after him pretty soon, but they at least had the foresight to lay down; Nishinoya had already accidentally stepped on them on his way to the kitchen for some snacks, and neither one had even stirred. Everyone else, save for Bokuto, Kuroo, and Kenma didn’t seem far behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The game was practically nonexistent by that point; occasionally, someone would remember that they were supposed to be playing something and would take a turn, but it had basically descended into mindless bickering and conversation. Somehow they’d gotten back onto the topic of volleyball, and Bokuto was busy tossing questions at Akaashi left and right about his time playing the sport.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, so what position did you play?” He questioned, his head resting on Kuroo’s shoulder as he stifled a yawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was a setter,” Akaashi answered, taking a sip of his water bottle. He’d finally decided that trying to finish off the bottle of tequila was not a good idea; he was already going to have a bitch of a hangover the next morning, and the room had started to spin a long time ago. He really didn’t want to make it any worse. Thankfully, he didn’t tend to act completely stupid when he was drunk. The only noticeable change in him was that he tended to talk more, often being much more open than he would be if he were sober.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, seriously? We gotta play sometime!” Bokuto grinned, “We would make, like… an awesome team! I was one of the top five spikers in the country!”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“I know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s lips pulled up into a wide smile, “You told me already.” Bokuto’s continual bragging about his position should have been annoying; from anyone else, it might have been. But something about the way Bokuto’s chest puffed out proudly every time he mentioned his achievements made Akaashi want to sit there and listen to him talk about volleyball for hours. It was endearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit..” Bokuto breathed out, clutching his chest, “Akaashi smiled.. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> smiled.” Akaashi couldn’t tell if he was purposely being over-dramatic, or if it was a genuine sentiment. Either way, he felt his face heat up in a blush. He was sure his skin was already tinted pink from the alcohol, so hopefully it wouldn’t be too noticeable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long did you play for?” Kuroo elbowed Bokuto in the side, seemingly in an attempt to get him to cut it out with the dramatics, raising an eyebrow at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just through high school. I was okay, but I know I’d never have a chance at going pro, so I gave it up in University.” He still enjoyed volleyball thoroughly, and he would occasionally watch games when he came across them online, but he didn’t completely regret giving it up. His high school team really hadn’t been that special; as far as he knew, no one on his team had gotten any sports scholarship offers, despite the fact that they’d done so well in their third year. In all honesty, the only reason they’d gone to nationals was because of pure luck. The other team’s ace had hurt his knee badly in the semi-finals, and that had been enough to let his own team push through and win in straight sets. He always figured that was the biggest downside about relying on a single person for your team’s victory; once they went down, the whole team went down with them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did the same thing,” Kuroo nodded, a lazy smile gracing his lips, “I still play in a neighbourhood league, but I never really thought of going pro. As much as I love volleyball, I don’t know if I could handle it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s understandable,” Akaashi nodded a bit. He definitely understood how Kuroo felt; he was good, sure, but he wasn’t an exceptional player or anything. He wasn’t a genius, and he wasn’t one of the players who worked themselves to the bone trying to make themselves a genius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, you totally could’ve handled going pro!” Bokuto punched him lightly in the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, there’s a lotta competition. And honestly, I’m happy with physiotherapy,” Kuroo shrugged, “Bo’s still planning on going pro, though. He played on the university team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Akaashi tilted his head, and Bokuto’s attention immediately snapped away from Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! I was the ace!” Bokuto grinned proudly, “I’ve already gotten offers from some good teams for next year's season!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s impressive,” Akaashi couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips at Bokuto’s boasting; the way he seemed to puff up at Keiji’s compliment made an almost giddy feeling flutter in his chest, “Are you planning to get your teaching license after you’re finished playing professionally?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m gonna have to, since I decided to take this year off. But I’m fine with that! I still wanna be a teacher, even if I do end up having a long volleyball career,” He sighed happily, “I mean, I can’t really do volleyball forever. Eventually, I’d have to retire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’d get too bored just sitting around without anything to do?” Akaashi supplied, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Bokuto nodded, “And imagine getting to tell students I was a professional volleyball player? It would be awesome!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it would be,” Akaashi agreed, resting his chin in his palm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bokuto’s cute when he talks about things he loves.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had noticed it a few times already, but each time was followed by him immediately pushing the thought out of his brain. But by this point, he was too drunk to care. He didn’t know why he was so insistent on the fact that he didn’t find his neighbours attractive; it was a lie, a complete and total lie. But Keiji had always thought that if he lied for long enough, it would become true. But as blind as he was (both concerning his actual eyesight and his own feelings), he couldn’t deny the fact that all three of them were ridiculously hot, in their own way. Sure, there was much more about them Akaashi liked aside from their looks, but acknowledging </span>
  <em>
    <span>those</span>
  </em>
  <span> thoughts was something even his drunk mind wasn’t going to do. He would really like to ignore anything that might possibly complicate his newfound friendships, and simply finding them attractive was probably harmless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma played too,” Kuroo’s voice pulled Akaashi out of his thoughts, and he mentally kicked himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid alcohol… </span>
  </em>
  <span>“He was a setter too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see that as a good position for you,” Akaashi nodded a little bit, resting his chin on his knee as he took a sip of his water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’s that?” Kenma glanced up from his phone, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to figure out how to word his thoughts, “Setters are… the control tower of a team. They need to be analytical, strategic, and… smart, I guess? They need to be able to quickly assess situations and figure out the best course of action. You seem like a good fit for the position.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just paused, completely taking his attention away from his phone for a moment to stare at Akaashi. His face remained passive, but there was a glint of something behind his eyes. It seemed to be a mixture of shock and amusement, his eyes studying Akaashi’s face as if confused by him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” His lips pulled up into a small smile that made an almost giddy feeling tug at Akaashi’s chest. A small voice in the back of his mind made a comment about how the feeling should concern him, but the not-sober part of his brain pushed it away as fast as it had come. It seemed there was something else Kenma wanted to say, but Keiji was either too oblivious, or too drunk, to figure out just what it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez. I dunno whether I should be impressed or scared at how well you can read people,” Kuroo teased, tipping his head back a bit to look up at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a bit of both,” Akaashi joked in return, wrapping his arms around his own leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, woah, was that a non-sarcastic joke? Who are you and what have you done with Akaashi?” Kuroo questioned, putting a hand over his chest in mock surprise. Keiji rolled his eyes, lifting a hand to flip him off as he downed the last of his water bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just drunk, Kuroo-san,” He mused, chuckling softly, “I’ll be back to normal by morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I like this Akaashi! He talks a lot more,” Bokuto grinned a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you don’t like me when I’m quiet?” Keiji raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bokuto’s eyes widened, “No! No, obviously not! I like you all the time, but it’s nice seeing you… Uh.. what’s the word?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi felt a flutter in his chest at Bokuto’s words, resisting the urge to smile again. Obviously Keiji knew that his neighbours liked him; they had kept him around thus far, hadn’t they? But subconsciously knowing it, and hearing the words straight from Bokuto’s mouth, were two different things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relaxed?” Kuroo supplied, leaning his head on Bokuto’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Relaxed!” Bokuto nodded, “You’re always like, super stressed about everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side in confusion, “Am I?” He questioned. He hadn’t really thought he was any less relaxed than the average person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Bokuto said, leaning forward to grab the last slice of pizza from the box, “You’re always tense, and you always look like you get no sleep, and you get stressed whenever you talk about your book or getting a job,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a hum in response. He hadn’t really noticed; he hadn’t felt any more stress than usual, but he had been sleeping less, especially over the past couple days as he tried to rush to finish his first draft. And before his interview, he had been incredibly worried about how he was going to pay his bills. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. Yeah he was definitely hammered; there was no way he’d be laughing so openly if he weren’t, especially not at something that really wasn’t even funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you broke him, bro,” Kuroo nudged Bokuto in the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?!” Bokuto looked between his boyfriend and Akaashi with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Akaashi shook his head, finally managing to get his laughter under control, “I’m fine. I just… you’re a lot more perceptive than I’ve given you credit for, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… really?” Bokuto grinned, scratching the back of his neck. Akaashi smiled a bit, reaching for a new water bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, really.” He nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you be that nice to me?” Kuroo pouted, wiping awake a fake tear, “You’re so nice to Kou and Kenma, but you just bully me? How’s that fair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your ego would get too big if I complimented you,” Akaashi joked, struggling for a moment with the cap of his water bottle before giving up and simply opening it with his teeth, “I’m doing community service by being mean to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Kuroo shook his head, “I feel so loved by my friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi tipped his head back, letting out another laugh. He felt Kuroo’s eyes settle on his face, and when he turned his head, he saw him staring at him with furrowed eyebrows and an unknown emotion flashing behind his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He raised an eyebrow as his laughter subsided, taking a sip of his water bottle, “Do I have something on my face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.. I’ve just never seen you actually laugh or smile this much,” Kuroo chuckled a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. My laugh is weird, I know,” Akaashi waved him off, a lazy smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not.” Kenma commented, without looking up from his game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s nice!” Bokuto added in. Keiji felt heat creeping up the back of his neck, taking another sip of his water bottle to avoid responding. He’d never really liked his laugh; it was much too loud, and he would make an odd gasping noise whenever he tried to inhale that almost sounded like a squeak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” He smiled, shifting to pull both his knees to his chest so he could rest his arms on top of them as a sort of makeshift pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, look! You guys made him blush,” Kuroo teased, leaning down to poke Keiji in the cheek. He swatted away his neighbours hand, fighting off a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck off, that’s the alcohol.” It was a bad excuse and even Akaashi knew it, but no one bothered to comment on it. The conversation continued, though by this point, it was mostly Bokuto and Kuroo talking to each other, leaning against one another with dopey grins on their faces. Kuroo’s arm had moved to settle around Kenma’s shoulders, and occasionally he would look up from his game to add in his two cents. Everyone else’s words had faded to incoherent whispers that Akaashi didn’t have the mental energy to decipher, almost drowned out by the sounds of Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s snores beside him. The only people still awake seemed to be the four of them, Tsukishima, Asahi, and Daichi - the other three were across the room, their respective boyfriends passed out in various places around the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi wasn’t far from falling asleep; he’d stopped drinking, but the room was still spinning slightly, and his eyelids were growing heavy. He wanted to stay awake, wanted to keep feeling the light and fluttery feeling in his chest that he couldn’t place, wanted to keep talking to his neighbours and hearing their laughter. He was too drunk to pay any mind to the feelings swarming his mind, or the way that his lips spread into a smile of their own accord every time Kenma’s lips quirked up in amusement, or Bokuto started gesturing wildly with his hands, or Kuroo let out the odd snort-laugh that would seem annoying or unattractive on the average person. But his body and mind had other ideas, and it was only a few minutes later when Akaashi’s head dropped onto his knees, the sounds of conversation suddenly cutting off into silence as he fell asleep.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi woke up first the next morning. It was early, and the apartment was just barely illuminated by the soft colours of the sunrise. Akaashi didn’t have the time to pay attention to the beauty; as soon as he was able to stand, he immediately darted towards the bathroom, careful to avoid stepping on any sleeping bodies as his stomach churned uncomfortably.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m never drinking again..</span>
  </em>
  <span> Was his first thought as he dropped to his knees beside the toilet, body wrenching forward as stomach acid burned at his throat. There was an almost painful feeling of pressure in his head, and by the time he’d started dry-heaving, it had evolved into a full-blown headache. It felt as if someone was going at his temples with a jackhammer, cracking into his skull over and over again. He let out a tired groan when he’d finally stopped gagging, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes as he struggled to stand. The bathroom seemed to tilt on its axis for a moment, and Akaashi grabbed the counter so he didn’t collapse back on the tiled floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear god, he hated hangovers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flushed the toilet, hunching over the sink to wash his face and rinse out his mouth, He grabbed a bottle of what looked like mouthwash - his glasses had clearly fallen off his face sometime in the night, leaving everything as just a blur of colours and shapes - and rinsed his mouth until the taste of bile had disappeared. He looked at himself in the mirror; even without his glasses, he could tell his hair was a mess, and he was almost entirely sure there were bags under his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh he stepped out of the bathroom, somewhat attempting to tame his hair with his fingers. It seemed that while he was busy puking, a couple other people had woken up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There he is!” Bokuto yelled much too loud as Akaashi stepped back into the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t yell, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi mumbled, his voice slightly hoarse as he resisted the urge to cringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s the hangover?” Kenma asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely horrible,” Keiji grumbled a bit as he sat down cross-legged on the floor, “Where the hell are my glasses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” Kenma held a blurry black item out to Akaashi, “You fell asleep with them on, so I put them on the table so they didn’t break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji took them from his neighbour with a relieved sigh, slipping them on his face and blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust, “Thank you. I really wasn’t looking forward to blindly feeling on the floor for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop talking, all of ya,” A voice grumbled from the floor. Akaashi leaned his head down a bit to look under the coffee table. Somehow, Kuroo must have fallen off the couch during the night, and was currently laying face-down on the carpet with his head beneath the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any painkillers?” Akaashi asked, looking at Kenma. Kuroo seemed to be incapaciatated at the moment, and Bokuto was busy leaning down and poking his boyfriend in the cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I have ‘em right here,” Kenma handed him a bottle of advil, “This always happens; Kuroo decides to provoke everyone into drinking way too much. Not that they need the help..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I guess I was his target yesterday or something?” Akaashi let out a soft chuckle, downing a couple pills with water before handing the bottle back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, unfortunately.” Kenma smiled a little, “Normally it’s Bokuto, Oikawa, or Tsukishima he goes after, cause they always fall for his shit. I guess he wanted to see if you’d actually get hammered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji had known the whole night that he was playing right into Kuroo’s little trap - if it could even be called that, “I guess I really do have bad judgement,” He smiled a little, shaking his head. He was still feeling drowsy, and he knew that the second he got back into his apartment he was gonna crash on his bed and sleep the day away. But he couldn’t bring himself to be too bothered by it; he’d had a lot of fun last night, even if the hangover he had now was still making him feel like death itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we all do.” Kenma shook his head a little, watching as Kuroo attempted to swat Bokuto away. A moment later he moved to stand up, hitting his head off the bottom of the coffee table and groaning in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate alcohol, I’m never drinking again,” Kuroo whined, managing to sit up and lean against the couch without hitting his head again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say that every time,” Kenma deadpanned, watching as Kuroo rubbed the back of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I mean it this time!” Kuroo pouted, tipping his head back to look up at Bokuto, “How the everloving fuck are you not dying like the rest of us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should head home,” Akaashi stretched his arms above his head, looking at Kenma. His other two neighbours were too focused on their bickering to even hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure you don’t want breakfast?” Kenma looked over, “You can stay, we don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think if I tried to eat, I’d throw up again,” He chuckled softly, “And I have to go feed Chieko anyways. And maybe take a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma studied his face for a moment, seemingly looking for anything that indicated Keiji was being dishonest. When he didn’t find whatever it was he was looking for, he nodded a bit, “Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was.. A lot of fun. Thank you for inviting me,” He smiled, finishing off his water bottle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma rolled his eyes a bit, “Kou was the one who-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He already told me you were the one who said I should come,” Akaashi cut him off, “So I’m thanking you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Alright. You’re welcome. We’ll invite you again next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s lips pulled up into a smile, and he gave a slight nod as he stood up. He said a quick goodbye, fighting off a slight smile at the half-asleep groans he got in response before he stepped out of the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was he already so excited for next week?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>iknowiknow two chapters in one day, but i had this one finished and i didn't wanna wait to post it</p><p>as always, thank you all for supporting the story, comments/kudos are always appreciated!</p><p>**Come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing Akaashi did when he stepped back into his apartment was fill up Chieko’s food bowl. She was right at his feet the second he got through the door; his stove told him that it was already almost noon, and even though he’d fed her late the night before, he still felt guilty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a couple treats to hopefully make up for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next thing he did was walk into his bedroom, set his glasses down on his nightstand and face plant onto his bed. He’d spent three days writing nonstop, only sleeping when his body absolutely forced him to, and to top it all off he’d drank over half a bottle of cheap tequila in one night. He was prepared to stay in his bed for the next week and not move at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it seemed like whoever the hell thought it appropriate to call him at that moment had different plans. Akaashi let out an annoyed huff, reaching for his phone and feeling along the side until he found the button to put it on silent. He let out a sigh of relief when the buzzing finally stopped. Whatever it is, it could wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The buzzing started up again almost immediately, and Keiji let out a groan, picking up his phone and quickly swiping across the screen to answer the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He grumbled, too tired to care if he was being rude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s anger immediately morphed into surprise as he sat up in his bed, eyebrows furrowing at the voice on the other end of the line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsuko?” He raised an eyebrow, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed as he took a moment to catalogue all the reasons his sister could suddenly be calling him in the middle of the day. It was wednesday too - by all accounts, she should’ve been at work, “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and his sister rarely spoke over the phone. They talked semi-regularly, as each other’s only confidant within their family, but it was almost always over text. The last time Akaashi had gotten a phone call from her was just under a year ago when she’d called to wish him a happy new year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He and his sister were fairly close, as the only normal members of their entire goddamn family. They were each other’s outlet to rant about their parents and their ridiculous expectations; though, Atsuko was always the one doing most of the ranting. They were as different as siblings could be, and they fought a lot, but something about being each others’ only true ‘family’ had brought them closer as they got older. Where Akaashi was quiet and analytical, Atsuko was loud and tended to dive head-first into everything. Where Akaashi would stifle his feelings, keeping them inside until he exploded, Atsuko had absolutely no problem telling people exactly how she felt and where they could stick their opinions of her. They were both treated very differently by their parents, but the basics were the same; they both had to deal with the cold indifference coming from people who had never wanted kids in the first place, but had them anyways because it was expected. They both dealt with the constant push towards perfection, and the cool silent treatment whenever they didn’t meet expectations. They dealt with the locked doors in the middle of the night when they had nightmares, leaving them to confide in each other instead of their parents, and the uncomfortable silence of family dinners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you always assume something happened? Couldn’t I just be calling to check in on my brother?” She scoffed a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Because if you wanted to check in on me, you’d just text.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay. So I have something to tell you..” She trailed off, and Akaashi could almost imagine her twisting her hair around her finger the way she’d always done when she was nervous. He couldn’t help but sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our wonderful mother called me just now.” The scorn in her voice when she said the word ‘mother’ made Akaashi smile slightly, but it immediately dropped when he processed her words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She did what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His sister hadn’t spoken to their mother in years. Three years older than Keiji himself, Atsuko had gotten the hell out of their childhood home the moment she turned 18, moving in with her boyfriend and going to University without the help of their parents - not that either of them would have put money into either of their children’s schooling anyways. They sure as hell weren’t jumping to help Keiji out with his student loans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d spent a lot of time that year hanging out in her dorm, listening to her ranting about their parents before she finally made the decision to cut them off completely. As far as he knew, neither her nor their parents had made any attempts to mend the relationship, and Atsuko was perfectly happy with that. Akaashi admired her confidence; as much resentment as he held for his parents, he doubted he’d ever be able to cut contact with them completely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that there was much contact to begin with; they spoke to each other through email more than anything else, and Akaashi hadn’t seen them since Christmas last year. The last time they’d ‘spoken’ was when his mother had told him she and his father would be away for business during his graduation, and that they wouldn’t be able to attend. She hadn’t even said congratulations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know!” Atsuko let out a huff, and Keiji could faintly hear the sound of a chair squeaking as she flopped down on it, “I wasn’t even going to answer it at first, but I figured someone fuckin’ died or something! Cause why else would she be calling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what did she say?” Akaashi asked, resting his elbows on his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She called about you,” She answered, “Apparently she called your university, and… they told her you weren’t registered as a student anymore. She said she emailed you about it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of fucking course she did,” Akaashi groaned, running a hand through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His parents hadn’t been happy with his choice of major. On their ‘list of viable careers for Akaashi Keiji’, writer didn’t even come close to making it. He’d done a good job of keeping his major a secret through his first year, insisting to his mother that he was taking a variety of science-y courses so he could decide what path he wanted to take, but eventually his lie had fallen apart. She’d been even angrier when he’d changed his information, taking away her access to his grades and course information, after she’d gone on and ‘accidentally’ pulled him out of one of his art-based courses in his final year. It was as if she thought </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would somehow get him to change his major when he had almost finished his degree. She was also somehow under the illusion that Keiji would go back to get a masters degree to become a professor, and he had just… never bothered to correct her. He could only assume she had called in an attempt to get back her access to his school information, and instead was hit with the reality that her son wasn’t continuing his education beyond his bachelor's degree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know. She’s a piece of work. But yeah, apparently she fuckin’ emailed you, but you didn’t respond, so she decided to call </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead.” Atsuko sighed, “I don’t know why; I wasn’t gonna tell her shit, and she just got mad at me. I hung up on her when she started on some bullshit about how I became a bad influence or some shit. Said </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the reason you decided not to get your masters. I doubt she’s in a good mood, but I figured I’d warn ya… if she was willing to call me, she’s probably going to call you sometime in the next couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi shook his head a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t even surprised his mother had tried to twist some convoluted story about how his choice not to continue school was somehow his sister’s fault. “Alright… I’ll check my email, but I’m not going to talk to her unless she calls me.” Keiji knew his mother would twist his words if he explained things over email, and honestly, if she didn’t feel like actually talking to him then she didn’t deserve an explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t talk to her at all if I was you,” Atsuko commented, “She’s constantly trying to control your life, she fucking pulled that bullshit with your courses-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t just cut her off,” Akaashi interrupted, “It’s not that easy.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sure it is! I did it,” She retorted, “I know you feel guilty. You feel like you should stick around, because with me gone, you’re their only kid. But you know how they are, Keiji. I didn’t deserve to deal with that shit, and neither do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for warning me, Atsuko,” Akaashi answered, completely ignoring her last words. He really didn’t want to get into that conversation right now, not when panic was already swirling in his stomach at the idea of having to explain to his mother why he’d decided to simply stop at a bachelors degree. He heard his sister sigh, but she dropped the topic of cutting off their parents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me if she gets bitchy. I’ll drive right down there and tear her a new one,” She joked, but there was a note of truth behind her words. Akaashi knew that his sister would take absolutely any opportunity to piss off their parents, but it still made him smile nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you, loser.” She spoke, and Keiji could hear the grin in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so you’re back to normal. What a shame.” He teased in return, a soft laugh escaping as she told him to fuck off, “I love you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi tossed his phone aside when he heard the click of Atsuko hanging up the phone, rubbing his hand over his face. He almost wished he had more alcohol. He pulled out his phone, glancing quickly over the curt email he’d received from his mother yesterday evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Keiji</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I called your University today. I was informed that you were no longer a student, and had not registered for a masters level program.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I believe I am owed an explanation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Short, to the point, and completely emotionless. Typical for his mother. On the bottom she signed it with her work signature, as always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On top of everything else, now he had to worry about his damn mother. On one hand, she may not call him at all; she may leave things at the unanswered email, and simply decide to give him the silent treatment. That would definitely be Akaashi’s preferred option, but it likely wasn’t even close to what would happen. Much more likely would be that she call him and lecture him in that deadpan tone she always used, making her disappointment in him clear as day. His mother hadn’t called him once in his life, but if she truly was angry enough to phone Atusko of all people, then she was likely angry enough to call him too. He stared at his phone, almost wishing it would ring now just so he could get it over with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it didn’t, Keiji just let out another sigh, putting his phone on his nightstand and laying back down. He certainly didn’t want to pay any attention to what Atsuko had told him at the moment, and his exhaustion seemed even worse after the phone call. If he thought about it too much, he would start worrying, planning out what he’d say to his mother and how he was going to tiptoe around the situation without making her angry- well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> angry. He didn’t want to expend the energy on that right now, not when he was hungover and a little pissed off. All he wanted was to sleep; so that’s what he did. He just barely felt Chieko’s weight settle on the bed beside his feet before he was out like a light, thankful for the blissful emptiness of sleep.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The rest of wednesday passed in a blur; the only thing Akaashi really remembered doing was frantically checking his phone every time it buzzed, not knowing whether to feel relieved or scared when it wasn’t his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks to his nap and his racing mind, he had trouble falling asleep that night, staring at the ceiling of his dorm with a single question flicking through his mind every few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why the hell hasn’t she called yet?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he was wrong; maybe his mother was just going to give him the silent treatment and ignore him. Maybe she was waiting for a response to her stupid email. Or maybe she was just biding her time, stewing in her anger and disappointment and planning out exactly how she wanted to pick apart each and every one of Akaashi’s life decisions that she deemed unfit for a member of her family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally tossed his blankets off sometime around 4am, after a night of tossing and turning and waking up from his sleep every five minutes. He didn’t know exactly what he planned to do, but he knew he had to do something to get his mind off his damn mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t gone for a run in a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He changed quickly out of his pajamas and into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeve athletic shirt. It was fairly cold out, but he’d be fine once he started running. He also decided to switch out his glasses for his contacts; the last time he’d made the mistake of wearing them on a run, he’d tripped and smashed them falling face-first into a pole. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been a fun jog home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi brushed his teeth and made an attempt to comb his hair before he left, despite knowing that the cool morning wind and his sweat would only turn it into a mess by the time he was home again. It took a bit of searching through his closet to find his running shoes, but when he finally caught sight of them, he was happy to see his phone-holding armband in the box along with them. He really hadn’t wanted to risk the device falling out of his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was ready, he slipped on his shoes and stepped out into the hallway, taking extra care to close his door quietly as he walked towards the elevator. He expected both the streets and the lobby of the complex to be completely deserted; the clock on his stove had read quarter to five when he’d finally finished getting ready, and it was still pitch black outside save for the streetlights. The lobby at least met his expectations, and he gave a small nod to the person working the front desk as he stepped out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold hit him like a bag of bricks when he stepped outside, but he tried to ignore it, taking in a deep breath. The fresh air definitely helped to calm him down slightly. However, the unexpected voice that pierced the silence was enough to make him jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell’re you doing up so early?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s head whipped to the side, and he let out a silent sigh of relief when he saw Kuroo leaning against the side of the building.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Jesus christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,” He muttered, shaking his head a little as he lifted his arms, stretching them above his head, “I’m going for a run. I couldn’t sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo let out a hum in return, a white cloud of smoke escaping his lips only to be carried off by the wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. Smoking was allowed in the apartments, the landlady had let him know about that before he’d moved in, and from what he saw Kuroo wasn’t even smoking a cigarette. It seemed like a handheld vape, it’s metallic red exterior glinting in the light from the streetlamps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanted some fresh air, I couldn’t sleep either,” He answered, shrugging a bit. Akaashi nodded in understanding, letting his arms drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that nicotine or THC?” He arched an eyebrow, watching as Kuroo took another drag from the device.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicotine,” He answered, voice sounding slightly odd as he held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, “I’m not gonna risk getting arrested just to get high outside when I could do it in the apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair,” Akaashi chuckled softly, stretching out his legs. His eyes flicked back towards the device, which Kuroo was currently twirling between his fingers, hesitating before he spoke again, “Do you mind if I take a hit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji had started smoking during his first year of University in an attempt to cope with his stress. He hadn’t exactly had the money to dish out on weed, and his campus had a strict policy on illegal drugs to the point that he would’ve been kicked out if he were caught. He’d quit cigarettes about a month before graduating, but that didn’t mean he’d kicked his addiction completely. He’d cut down on how much he used nicotine, but he still often kept a pack of disposables in his nightstand for when he got stressed. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was marginally better than cigarettes. However at the moment he was out, and until Atsuko’s call, he’d thought that maybe he’d be able to finally quit once and for all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now he had a feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t happening anytime soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo raised an eyebrow at the request, but held out the vape to Akaashi anyways, “Here.” He took it almost immediately, pressing the button down and inhaling until the little light began to blink, indicating it had timed out. He held it in for a moment, relishing in the feeling of the head rush he got, before exhaling the smoke in a large white cloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What flavour is this?” His nose scrunched up slightly; it was much too sweet for his taste, and it left an odd aftertaste, but nicotine was nicotine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Banana taffy or something like that,” Kuroo answered, watching as Akaashi took another hit despite his distaste for the flavour, “Those things are bad for you, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says the one who owns it,” He retorted in a deadpan tone, handing it back to Kuroo as he exhaled the smoke through his nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well, do as I say not as I do,” He chuckled softly, “Did something happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi blinked in surprise; was he that easy to read, or did Kuroo just have a scarily accurate sense of intuition, like Kenma had mentioned earlier in the week?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, why?” He lied smoothly, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’re up at five in the morning cause you couldn’t sleep,” Kuroo pointed out, “And you look pretty stressed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t I always?” Akaashi said, stretching out his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> stressed,” Kuroo corrected himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright, Kuroo-san. Thank you for your concern, though,” Akaashi sighed softly as he continued his stretches, “Ukai told me he’d tell you when my first shift was. Have you heard anything?” He asked, desperately reaching for a change of subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo eyes him with suspicion, but he thankfully didn’t push, “Yeah, he sent me the schedule. Bastards always late on posting ‘em.” He scoffed a bit, shaking his head. Keiji had found it odd that it was midway through the week and he hadn’t heard anything, but he’d figured that either Kuroo hadn’t had the chance to tell him, or the schedule hadn’t been made up yet. “I’ll send you the picture, your first shift is Wednesday night, six to midnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji nodded, pulling his phone out of his armband to quickly add the shift to his schedule. He could fill in the rest of the days when Kuroo sent him the schedule, “Alright. Thank you.” He put his phone back in the holder, making sure it was secture, “I’ll be seeing you then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, are you going running alone?” Kuroo asked, seemingly surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Akaashi answered, confused by the question. His neighbour seemed to think something over for a second, exhaling another white cloud before slipping his vape into the pocket of his jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I thought you might’ve been waiting for someone,” He shrugged, eyes fixated on the street lamps as he seemed to think for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who would I be waiting for? You, Kenma, and Bokuto-san are the only people I know.” Akaashi shook his head slightly, “I prefer to run alone anyways.” He’d attempted to go for runs with some of his friends in University, but more often than not, none of them could keep up with his pace. It always left him either slowing down to accommodate them, or continuing ahead and seeming like an asshole. Running on his own was much easier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait five minutes. I’ll go get changed and come with you,” Kuroo suddenly declared, making his way towards the doors of their apartment complex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo-san, you don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s early, it’s dark out, and we’re not exactly in the safest part of the city.” Kuroo cut him off, “Just wait for me, alright? It’s been a while since I’ve gone for a run anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a soft sigh, his breath visible in the cold morning air, “Fine. But if you’re not back in five minutes, I’m going on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d expect nothing less,” Kuroo shot him a grin, before disappearing into the apartment complex. Akaashi shook his head a bit, hopping up and down a couple times in an attempt to warm himself up. He understood Kuroo’s concern, but he almost felt guilty dragging the other man out with him. He’d looked tired, and it was early in the morning. Then again, he had given Kuroo the chance for an out, only to be denied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt a small smile pull at his lips as he waited. Five minutes had definitely passed, but he couldn’t bring himself to start his run. Kuroo had cared enough to offer to run with him for the sake of his own safety, and Akaashi wasn’t going to metaphorically scoff in his face by simply leaving. Finally, Akaashi heard the sounds of the door to the complex opening, followed by Kuroo’s hurried voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurry your ass up, he probably already - oh, you haven’t left yet,” Kuroo raised an eyebrow as he stopped on the sidewalk, raising an eyebrow at Akaashi. Bokuto bounded out the doors after him, nearly running straight into Kuroo as he suddenly stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured it was rude to leave without you,” Akaashi responded, “Good morning, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Kou’s fault anyways, he took way too long to get dressed,” Kuroo elbowed his boyfriend in the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning!” He grinned, giving Akaashi a wave in greeting. The single gesture had more energy than any normal person should have at five thirty in the morning, “Hey, shuddup! I had to find my jogging pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi ignored their bickering, reaching down to make sure his shoelaces were tied properly before he stood back up again. “Try to keep up, I won’t slow down for either of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Akaashi started running, fighting off a smile as he heard the sounds of Bokuto and Kuroo’s footsteps as they caught up to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had always enjoyed running. He could clear his mind, focusing on just the burning of his muscles, the sound of his feet hitting the pavement, and his own breathing. He didn’t have to think, didn’t have to worry about anything - he could let his body settle into the familiar movements and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’d started in middle school as a way to pass the time during the summer, and had continued all the way through University to the point where he started running from his off-campus dorm building to class in the mornings. His endurance had gotten incredibly good, and his long legs allowed him to run faster than even some of the athletes he had known during school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had a planned out route already; there was a fairly large park about four kilometers away from the apartment complex which seemed like a good place to take a break before turning around and heading back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>About five minutes into the run, Akaashi began to pull ahead, keeping his speed consistent as his neighbours slowed down in an attempt at rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need to stop?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder when he heard what he guessed was Bokuto’s breathing becoming laboured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, we’re good!” Bokuto gasped out. Clearly he wasn’t used to endurance running, but Keiji suspected that he wouldn’t stop to rest even if he tried to convince him to. He slowed down his pace a little, falling back until he was beside his neighbours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said you wouldn’t slow down for us?” Kuroo questioned, that stupidly smug grin plastered on his face. He was struggling a lot less than Bokuto was, but he clearly was still having a hard time keeping up with Akaashi’s pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt bad watching you struggle.” He retorted, his eyes fixed ahead of them as they continued to run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The time it took them to get to the park was a little longer than Akaashi’s usual time, but he attributed that more to his attempts not to kill his neighbours than him not running in a week or so. When Akaashi stopped for a rest, Bokuto immediately hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. Kuroo wasn’t much better, using the hem of his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his face. Keiji pointedly looked away as he did so, refusing to let his eyes settle on the exposed skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus christ, how are you not dying?” Bokuto panted out, looking up at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been running since middle school.” He answered with a small shrug, “I’ve been building up my endurance for years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should run a damn marathon or something,” Kuroo chuckled, flopping down on one of the empty park benches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not doing it to compete, I run because I enjoy it,” Akaashi answered, watching as Bokuto coughed loudly, his face buried in the crook of his elbow, “Are you alright, Bokuto-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-Yeah, yeah..” He waved off his concern, standing up straight with a soft huff, “I’m good, I’m just not used to endurance is all. I always do sprints ‘n stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you say something earlier? I could’ve changed the route,” Akaashi frowned a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Bokuto shook his head, his breathing finally beginning to go back to normal, “We’re tagging along on your run anyways, you shouldn’t have to adjust it for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite Bokuto’s reassurances, he allowed their break to go on longer than he usually would’ve, giving his neighbours enough time to properly rest before he started on the route back to their apartment building. He even went so far as to take a couple side streets on their way home to cut down on the distance. He also adjusted his pace so Bokuto and Kuroo could keep up, and even without the usual burning feeling in his muscles to keep him distracted, his neighbours’ nonstop conversation did the job well enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know what I’m really craving?” Bokuto panted out as they rounded the corner towards their block. The conversation had been jumping back and forth between topics for the past ten minutes; despite the fact that he was breathing the hardest, Koutarou was the one doing most of the talking. Kuroo would speak up every couple seconds, when Bokuto asked a question or his rambling paused for a response. Akaashi simply ran in silence, listening to his neighbours talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi spoke for the first time since they’d left the park, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead as the light of their apartment complex came into view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crepes! I haven’t had ‘em in forever,” Bokuto let out a huff, speeding up as they neared the doors before coming to a stop just outside of the building, “Oh! We should make crepes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we even have the stuff for it?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at Bokuto. Obviously, he was accustomed enough to his boyfriend’s random topic jumps that the sudden declaration of wanting crepes didn’t even surprise him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, probably?” Bokuto shrugged, rubbing his hands along his arms as the three of them stood out in the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s head inside,” Akaashi commented, making his way towards the door of the apartment complex. He could just barely see the beginnings of the sunrise in the sky, but the air was still freezing. Akaashi felt as if his sweat was going to freeze to his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warmth!” Bokuto threw his hands in the air as soon as they stepped into the lobby, grinning widely. Akaashi resisted the urge to smile, shaking his head. The fact that it was probably six at the latest and that Bokuto’s yelling might just be loud enough to wake the other tenants didn’t occur to Akaashi until he caught sight of the person working security for the lobby shooting them a glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san, it’s early, you’re going to wake people up,” Akaashi murmured, elbowing him in the side as they walked towards the elevator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, right!”Bokuto whisper-yelled, letting out a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was already feeling much lighter than when he’d left; the run had definitely done the trick. His stress over his mother wasn’t completely gone, but it had lessened slightly. He wasn’t sure whether it was the exercise or the company that had helped, but he was grateful either way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for coming with me,” Akaashi gave a small nod as they approached his apartment door. He stopped walking once they’d reached it, watching as Bokuto and Kuroo continued towards their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No probl- what’re you doing?” Kuroo glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow when he saw Akaashi stopped outside his door.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Was that a rhetorical question? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Judging by the expectant look on Kuroo’s face, Akaashi’s guess was for no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going home..?” He raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haven’t you been paying attention? We’re making crepes, c’mon,” Kuroo gestured for him to follow, continuing to speak when Akaashi opened his mouth to protest, “It’s not a question, we’ll drag you along if you won’t come willingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I could pick you up if I had to,” Bokuto grinned, flexing his arms as if to illustrate his point. Kuroo punched him in the shoulder. Akaashi just kept his eyes trained on his neighbours faces, pushing the mental image of Bokuto carrying him out of his mind as quickly as it had come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From what Akaashi knew of his neighbours, he seriously didn’t doubt that he would literally be dragged into their apartment if he refused. With a huff, he shook his head slightly, fighting off a smile, “Can I at least shower and change my clothing? Or do I have to eat breakfast all gross and sweaty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo put a hand to his chin, seeming to consider his answer, “Fine, but you have thirty minutes before we break in and drag you out, pants or no pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi rolled his eyes, “Noted.” With that he stepped into his apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>obligatory notice; don't smoke/vape especially if youre under the legal age, it's fine in fiction but addiction is no joke, even if its just nicotine and not hard drugs. believe me, im talking from experience, its not a fun time. </p><p>anyways, i hope you guys liked this chapter, i know i'm updating fast but my inspiration for writing has returned (touch wood lmao) and it's not like i had a consistent posting schedule to begin with, so i'm just posting the chapters as i finish them</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are always appreciated &lt;3</p><p>!!come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Twenty minutes later Akaashi stepped out of his apartment, freshly showered and feeling much better than he had the past twenty-four hours. He’d purposely left his phone in his apartment, knowing that there was no way in hell he’d answer his phone even if his mother did call. He may have gotten quite close to his neighbours, but having an argument with a parent over the phone was something he didn’t think he’d ever be comfortable doing in front of </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Especially not when said parent was his lovely mother, the woman who somehow always managed to make him feel like a child despite the fact that he was a twenty-year-old man more than capable of making his own decisions. If there was ever a time he’d truly broken down, it was after a particularly emotionally taxing conversation with his mother. He really wasn’t prepared to be that vulnerable around people who were still, in a way, almost strangers to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a lot of trouble remembering that sometimes; the fact that he really didn’t know that much about his neighbours. He had only known them for ten days, not years, no matter how comfortable he was around them. He knew some things; their majors, what they were planning on doing. But there were also plenty of things he didn’t know. Their favourite colours, things about their families, what kind of movies they liked… all in all, his neighbours were still somewhat of a mystery to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed away all thoughts of his mother and the future phone call as he stopped in front of his neighbours’ door. Kuroo had already somehow caught on to the fact that something was wrong; Akaashi didn’t want to give him more of a reason to try and prod at him to voice his feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time, Bokuto actually opened the door when he knocked instead of just yelling for him to come in. Akaashi just figured that Kenma was still asleep, and he didn’t want to wake him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi!” Bokuto greeted him with a grin, as if they hadn’t just seen each other not even half an hour again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Bokuto-san,” He gave a small nod as he stepped through the door. He assumed that Bokuto and Kuroo had already begun making the crepe mix, if the flour all over the owl-like man’s face was any indication. Despite the fact that there was a big smear of the powder all over his forehead, Koutarou either hadn’t noticed, or didn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon!” Bokuto grabbed his arm, dragging him along through the apartment and into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should quiet down, Bokuto-san, people are still sleeping.” Akaashi pointed out, glancing for a moment at the hand Bokuto had wrapped around his wrist. The moment they stopped, he pulled his hand out of Bokuto’s grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The walls are thick, unless I start screaming no one’s gonna hear me,” Bokuto snickered, “And Kenma sleeps like a fuckin’ rock; I could start yelling right in his ear and he’d just hit me with a pillow and roll over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi shot him a disbelieving look, before glancing towards the rest of the kitchen. To put it lightly, it was a complete disaster. Flour had seemingly made its way onto every surface; there were a series of handprints on the cupboards and fridge, and many more smears of white along the granite countertops. Somehow Kuroo had even managed to get it in his hair.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yo, Akaashi!” Kuroo glanced over his shoulder, grinning a bit, “So, question; do you know how to make crepe batter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a flour handprint on your ass,” Akaashi deadpanned, resisting the urge to laugh as he caught sight of the white mark on the back of Kuroo’s sweatpants, “Are you seriously telling me you two made this big of a mess, and you haven’t even made the batter yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why’re you looking at my ass, Kaashi?” Kuroo teased, before craning his neck back to try and see the back of his pants, “Wait, do I really? Bokuto, you bitch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto just cackled, leaning against the kitchen island as he watched Kuroo attempt to brush the flour off his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And to answer your question, yes. Blame Bokuto, he threw flour in my hair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You smeared it on my face first!” Bokuto retorted, reaching out to shove Kuroo. The action quickly led to a miniature shoving match between the two, wide grins spread across their faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in their friendship, Akaashi actually felt like a third wheel. It was as if he was impeding on a moment he shouldn’t have been privy to. He glanced away when Kuroo leaned down to pull Bokuto into a kiss, busying himself with the ingredients that the two of them had pulled out before he arrived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed they finally remembered he was there after a moment, pulling away and focusing their attention back on the crepes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a recipe or something for the mix?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow, glancing over as Kuroo leaned against the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think we have recipes for things? You really think we’re that organized?” Kuroo scoffed, waving him off.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, I don’t.” He deadpanned, “Look one up online. I’ve never made crepes before, but it can’t possibly be too complicated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo shrugged, pulling at his phone and tapping away at the screen as Bokuto hoisted himself up to sit on top of the kitchen island, kicking the wooden side as he swung his legs. Akaashi glanced over the recipe as Kuroo set down his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a kitchen scale?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow, looking between Bokuto and Kuroo. Bokuto looked like he was trying to figure out what that was, and Kuroo just shook his head.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We have a regular scale somewhere, I think?” Bokuto suggested.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“No, it won’t work, the measurements are too small.” Akaashi shook his head, “I have one. Some of the measurements are in cups, but the flour, butter, and salt is all in grams.. Bokuto-san, would you mind grabbing it from my apartment?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure!” Bokuto hopped off the counter immediately, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi pulled his keys out of his pocket, tossing the lanyard in Bokuto’s direction, “It’s in the drawer to the left of the fridge, it should be right on top.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it!” Bokuto grinned, running out of the apartment without putting on his shoes. Akaashi glanced over the recipe again, measuring out the ingredients he could without the scale and adding the eggs to the large mixing bowl.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“So..” Kuroo spoke up as Akaashi tossed away the eggshells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow, wiping his hands on his sweatpants as Kuroo didn’t immediately continue speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out a soft sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “I told you, Kuroo-san, nothing happened. I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not as good a liar as you think you are,” Kuroo mused, lifting himself up so he was sitting on the countertop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not lying,” Akaashi retorted, looking up to start Kuroo directly in the eyes, “I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo just hummed in response, picking at his nail beds, “If you don’t want to talk about it now, that’s fine. But you should know that I’m here if you do needa talk. Bo and Kenma too. None of us would be annoyed or anything if you opened up to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh, flicking on the sink to wash his hands. He wasn’t attempting to make it seem like he didn’t trust his neighbours; he just wasn’t prepared to get into the bullshit with his parents, especially not with people he’d known for a mere ten days, “I’m just stressed about finishing the last chapter of my book, Kuroo-san. Nothing out of the ordinary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Technically he wasn’t lying; he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> stressed about the fact that he only had one chapter left to write for his first draft and yet his brain still wasn’t in the mood to muster up the inspiration to actually finish it. He just conveniently left out the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> stress had been completely eclipsed by the idea of talking to his mother. He could still feel Kuroo’s eyes on his face as he used a tea towel to dry his hands, but thankfully, Bokuto returned before he could say anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got the scale! And a surprise!” Bokuto grinned, stepping into the kitchen. Akaashi felt his stomach drop slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san, what-” He turned around, eyes widening as he saw Bokuto with his kitchen scale in one hand, and his </span>
  <em>
    <span>cat</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the other, “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She ran up to me when I walked through the door, and she kept trying to follow me when I went to leave so I brought her along!” Bokuto grinned, setting down the scale so he could hold Chieko in his arms like a baby. She seemed completely comfortable in her position, more than happy to lay back in Bokuto’s arms and let him poke at her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell? Why does she like Kou and not me?” Kuroo huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no clue. I’m as confused by this as you are,” Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Bokuto shower the cat in attention, “She didn’t even let </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> pick her up for like, six months after I got her. It seems she just really likes Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo scoffed a bit, an amused grin pulling at his lips as he watched Bokuto interact with the cat. He seemed torn between being offended, and making heart eyes as he watched his boyfriend coddle the animal like a child. Akaashi just grabbed the kitchen scale off the counter, calibrating it before he began to measure out the flour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo! We should get a cat,” Bokuto declared suddenly. Akaashi glanced over his shoulder, resisting the urge to laugh as Chieko began to squirm, clearly having gotten her fill of affection for the moment. For a second he was scared Bokuto would drop her, but thankfully he just leaned down and opened his arms, letting her hop down to explore the apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve literally been saying that for years you ass, don’t try and make it seem like your idea!” Kuroo scoffed, narrowing his eyes a bit as Chieko walked towards him, “Are you here to reject me again or something, ehh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop antagonizing the cat, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi snorted softly, crouching down to scratch behind her ear. She continued to stare at Kuroo, before blinking and walking away in the direction of the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, but all of us had classes most of the time before now! I’m done, Kenma’s classes are almost all online, so there’s always gonna be someone home with it now. To like… train it and stuff!” Bokuto shrugged, leaning against the counter as he watched Akaashi make the batter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d have to get Kenma to agree,” Kuroo commented, “Not that it’ll take much convincing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Or we could get an </span>
  <em>
    <span>owl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure you can’t have owls as pets, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi commented, shaking his head a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not? People keep a bunch of types of birds as pets. And it’s not technically illegal,” Bokuto pointed out. Akaashi didn’t have enough knowledge on Japan’s exotic pet laws to know whether or not Bokuto was telling the truth, but he wouldn’t even be a little surprised if he had researched this subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owls are nocturnal, for one. It would be flying around and making noise at night,” Akaashi kept his attention on the batter as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and if they imprint on someone, they can start to think that the person is their mate and then they get grumpy if they don’t like, hoot with them and give them attention,” Kuroo tacked on. Akaashi wasn’t surprised that Kuroo knew that much about owls either; he could only imagine how many times he’d had to talk his boyfriend out of the idea of a pet owl. “Plus, we live in an apartment. Where would we even keep an owl?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto pouted a bit, seemingly a little distraught at the fact that having a pet owl wasn’t a viable possibility, “I dunno, we’d find space.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just get a cat, Bokuto-san. You can see owls at sanctuaries and in pictures, you don’t have to own one.” Akaashi chuckled softly, setting down the mixing bowl once he’d whisked out the lumps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But owls are so cute! They’re all fluffy, and they’re so smart-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess that’s something you and owls </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have in common,” Kuroo quipped, a smirk pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck off!” Bokuto laughed, shoving Kuroo as he made his way to the fridge in search of a drink, “Kaashi, want some juice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, thank you.” He nodded, “Where are your pans?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the cupboard to your left.” Kuroo answered, pouting as he watched Bokuto pour only two glasses of juice, “Oi! Aren’t you gonna get me some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, assholes who call me dumb don’t get any juice,” Bokuto stuck his tongue out at Kuroo childishly, but the corners of his mouth were pulled up into a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh c’mon,” Kuroo pouted, “Y’know I was kidding, babe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s true,” Bokuto seemed to think it over for a second, “You still don’t get any juice though, this is all that was left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You suck,” Kuroo pouted as Akaashi took one of the cups, taking a small sip as he poured some of the batter into the pan, tilting it until it covered the entire bottom. For a moment Akaashi wondered how he’d ended up as the only one cooking breakfast. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of Bokuto and Kuroo practically wrestling each other over the remaining glass of juice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Right. That’s how.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can one of you grab me a plate to put the crepes on?” Akaashi spoke up after a minute or so, interrupting their bickering match. Bokuto reached to grab a plate, and in that moment Kuroo finally snatched the glass of juice out of his hands, downing it in one gulp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ass!” Bokuto pouted as he handed Akaashi the plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have mine, Bokuto-san. I’m not that thirsty,” He offered, hoping to quell any more wrestling before it began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Bokuto’s pout immediately disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It’ll probably get warm by the time I’m finished cooking anyways. Just take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Kaashi!” Bokuto grinned, coming up from behind Akaashi to take the cup. He felt his breathing hitch slightly, momentarily unable to focus on anything but how warm he felt in that instant that Bokuto’s chest pressed against his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” He muttered, transferring the finished crepe to the plate and setting it in the microwave so it would stay somewhat warm before hurriedly starting on another one. Akaashi spent the next ten minutes internally panicking, forcing himself to keep a blank expression as he made the crepes and did his best to ignore the way his heart had seemingly skipped a beat when Bokuto had pressed against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s hot, it’s a normal reaction when you’ve been touch starved for months.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought to himself, repeating it like a mantra as he did his best to avoid getting lost in his thoughts and burning any food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know,” Kuroo’s voice pulled his attention back to the conversation that had been going on in the background, “I kinda feel like an asshole making you cook in our apartment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither of you knew how to make crepes. I don’t mind cooking, it isn’t a big deal,” Akaashi said, shrugging a little as he flipped another crepe on top of the pile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, lemme do the rest. It’s still a dick move, you’re the guest,” Kuroo bumped Akaashi out of the way with his hip, grabbing the spatula from his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know how to cook?” Akaashi questioned, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do! You think Bo or Kenma does the damn cooking in this house?” Kuroo scoffed, shooing him away with the spatula. Akaashi rolled his eyes, but stepped out of the way anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I can cook!” Bokuto pouted a bit, crossing his arms as he took a sip of his juice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only because I taught you,” Kuroo retorted, grinning a little “The only thing you knew how to make was pasta and toast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto didn’t verbally respond, setting down his cup of juice and reaching into the bag of flour while Kuroo’s attention was on the stove. Before Akaashi had any time to react, Bokuto stepped forward and slapped the small mound of powder against Kuroo’s cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo sputtered for a moment, waving his hands around in an attempt to get rid of the cloud of flour surrounding him. The entire stovetop and the cooked crepe were completely coated. Kuroo let out a sigh, shaking his head and turning off the stove as he moved to look at his boyfriend with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Oh, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>how you wanna play, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Bokuto cackled a bit, immediately ducking out of the way in his attempts to avoid Kuroo’s wrath. Akaashi opened his mouth, about to tell them to cut it out-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only to immediately get a mouthful of powder as Bokuto suddenly ducked behind him and grabbed his arms, using him as a human shield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was silent, spitting out a cloud of flour and reaching up to wipe his eyes - at least he’d managed to close them in time. Getting flour out of his eyes while wearing contacts didn’t seem like the best idea. When he opened them up finally, both Bokuto and Kuroo were still as statues, looking at him with wide eyes. Bokuto was shaking as he tried to hold back his laughter, and Kuroo just looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re dead.” Were the only words that came out of Akaashi’s mouth before he reached a hand into the flour bag, promptly throwing it directly in Kuroo’s face. He sputtered for a moment, and before Bokuto could get out of the way and run, Akaashi grabbed another handful, smashing it in his hair.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, it’s on now!” Kuroo basically yelled, grabbing the bag off the counter and holding it close to his chest so Akaashi and Bokuto both couldn’t grab it. Akaashi quickly ducked behind the kitchen counter, bringing a hand up to muffle his laughter when he heard Bokuto squeal. He watched as a poorly aimed cloud of flour sprinkled down on him - he was definitely going to need another shower after this. Despite the mess, there was adrenaline racing through his veins, a wide grin that he couldn’t contain spread across his face. When he looked back up, just barely peeking out from above the countertop, Bokuto had Kuroo in a headlock as he tried to wrestle the bag out of his hands. Akaashi stood back up, reaching forward in an attempt to grab the bag only to let out a noise of surprise as Bokuto pulled him into a headlock with his free arm, yelling some nonsense about Akaashi being a traitor trying to undermine him. Akaashi couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from his throat, to the point where his entire body started to shake and his eyes closed so tight that tears began to form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s early as fuck, why the hell are you two-” All three of them froze in place, looking like deer caught in a pair of headlights as Kenma stepped into the kitchen. Bokuto immediately put his hands up as if he were being arrested, letting Akaashi and Kuroo out of their respective headlocks. Kuroo dropped the bag of flour on the ground, making a large white cloud puff up from below them. They stood in silence for about a minute, all waiting for someone else to speak first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Bokuto’s fault.” Kuroo was the first one to speak. It was as if he had suddenly broken some kind of spell, and Bokuto immediately looked at him, appalled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>were the one who threw the flour at Akaashi!” Bokuto argued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> used him as a human shield! And you hit me with flour first!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only ‘cause you provoked me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’know what, you’re right,” Kuroo put his hands up in a show of surrender, “It was Akaashi’s fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Akaashi raised his eyebrows, scoffing at Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going back to bed,” Kenma sighed, shaking his head a bit as he turned around to walk out of the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, wait!” Kuroo reached forward, grabbing him by the arm, “C’mon, Kaashi made crepes! Eat with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So first you made him cook, and then you attacked him with flour?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, glancing at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, I did contribute to the mess,” Akaashi admitted, feeling a little guilty as he attempted to dust the flour off his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to cover for them. This is why they aren’t allowed to cook together if the recipe involves any kind of powder,” Kenma sighed, shaking his head a bit, “First, clean up this shit. Then I’ll eat. I have some extra clothes if you want to change, Akaashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he doesn’t have to help clean? He did most of it!” Kuroo whined, ignoring Akaashi’s glare. That was most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> true. He had shoved flour directly in their faces; he hadn’t been the one to throw any on the floor or the counters. Most of the mess had been there before he’d even shown up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s your kitchen, not his.” Kenma scoffed, “Besides, I’m 100% sure that’s a total lie. C’mon.” With that he left the kitchen, gesturing for Akaashi to follow him. He did so immediately, running a hand through his hair and fighting off a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright. I know how easy it is to get dragged into their stupid shenanigans,” Kenma assured, shaking his head a bit. He didn’t seem legitimately angry at the mess; he almost looked more amused than anything, now that they were out of sight of Bokuto and Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you all known each other?” The question slipped out before Akaashi could stop it, and he almost immediately opened his mouth to apologize for prying, but Kenma answered before he got the chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve known Kuro since I was a kid. Our parents were all friends in college, and we lived on the same street,” Kenma explained, leading Akaashi through one of the doors and into a bedroom that seemed much too large for one person. There was a fairly large dresser with it’s own vanity mirror beside the closet, and a king sized bed taking up a large portion of the room. He shook his head slightly as he caught sight of himself in the mirror; his hair almost looked like Bokuto’s, what with how much flour was on it, and his sweatpants were covered in powder.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“That must be nice, staying so close to your childhood best friend,” He commented, standing by awkwardly as Kenma began to dig through the laundry basket that was sitting on the bed, full of what Keiji assumed were clean clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He gets annoying sometimes though,” Kenma murmured, but the small smile on his face was enough to tell Akaashi he was joking, “I met Koutarou in high school. Me and Kuroo went to the same school, we both played volleyball like he told you the other night. Since our school was part of the Fukurodani Group, we had a lot of practice matches with Kou’s high school and we just sorta… became friends I guess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fukurodani group?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow. He’d heard stories of groups of schools who had managed to forge close relationships and practiced together, but he hadn’t seen anything like that; at least not where he’d grown up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it was a group of four powerhouse schools that always got together for training camps and practice matches; Nekoma, which was where Kuro and I went, Fukurodani, which was Bokuto’s school, and two others. Karasuno got invited for a few years, but I’m not sure if that lasted,” Kenma explained, pulling out a bright red hoodie and tossing it on the bed, “Karasuno only came because of our coach; he had a rivalry going on with their old coach, and when his grandson took over, Nekomata wanted to continue it I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Akaashi nodded in understanding, “That sounds like fun. My team never really did training camps, not with other schools at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was okay. A lot of work, though, and it was always so hot. And it meant a week of dealing with Bokuto and Kuroo’s constant practice. It was exhausting.” Kenma made a face at the memory, pulling out a pair of shorts, “Here, these should fit. I would give you pants, but your legs are much longer than mine. Kuroo’s would be way too long, and Bokuto’s would probably fall down.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thank you,” Akaashi took the clothes with a nod of gratitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bathroom is just right next to here, you can take a shower too if you want. You have a lot of flour in your hair,” Kenma glanced up, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he watched Akaashi run a hand through his hair, “Clean towels are in the cupboard below the sink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Akaashi chuckled softly, unable to stop himself from smiling. Even though he didn’t do it often, something about Kenma’s small smiles made warmth bubble up in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem. I’ll go make sure they aren’t making an even bigger disaster of the place,” Kenma shook his head a bit, “And I’ll make sure they wait to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to,” Akaashi assured, shaking his head a bit as he stepped out of the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cooked, and it’s not even your apartment. I’ll make them wait.” Kenma assured, before making his way into the kitchen. Akaashi stepped through the door leading into the bathroom, closing it behind him. He was quick in the shower, feeling a little guilty for making everyone else wait to eat. He stepped out of the shower smelling of pine-scented body wash. He refused to admit the fact that the moment he popped open the cap, he immediately knew it belonged to Kuroo. He quickly dried his hair and pulled on the clothes that Kenma had given him; the hoodie was nice and warm, a little big on him but definitely comfortable. The shorts fit him fairly well, though he was fairly sure they were Kenma’s; they were a little short, but not to the point where they were indecent or he couldn’t wear them. He just made sure to wear them slightly lower than he normally would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped out of the bathroom after hanging up the towel, making his way to the kitchen. He shook his head slightly as he heard Bokuto loudly complaining about how hungry he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for making you wait,” Akaashi chuckled softly as he stepped inside. He was surprised to find the kitchen basically spotless; the counter and floor had been cleared off all evidence of the flour fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto and Kuroo, on the other hand….</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god!” Bokuto immediately reached into the microwave where Akaashi had put the crepes - which had thankfully kept them free of loose flour - stuffing a plain one in his mouth before setting the plate on the table. Keiji just laughed softly, taking the last free stool that had been set around the kitchen island.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, is that my hoodie?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes, looking at the bright red sweater Akaashi wore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kenma gave it to me,” Akaashi shrugged, reaching to grab a crepe off the stack. While he was in the shower, his neighbours must have cut up some fruit; there were a couple bowls of berries taking up what little space there was left on the table, as well as a can of whipped cream and some nutella, “Do you have any lemon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, one sec,” Bokuto stood up, and all Akaashi saw was a blur of yellow heading towards his face. He thanked the higher powers for his fast reflexes as his fingers closed around the fruit, narrowly avoiding a bloody nose via citrus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” He gave a small nod to Bokuto before cutting it open, squeezing some juice on his crepe and taking a bite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been looking for that for like, a week! Stop stealing my hoodies you gremlin!” Kuroo huffed, tossing a blueberry at Kenma. He didn’t even react, raising an eyebrow as the fruit bounced off his forehead and onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was in with my laundry, there’s no proof it’s yours,” Kenma shrugged, putting a crepe on his own plate. Akaashi had a feeling that Kenma definitely knew it was Kuroo’s, and he resisted the urge to laugh at the idea of him constantly stealing his roommates clothes. If all of them were as comfy as the hoodie, Akaashi didn’t really blame him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has my name on the back, it’s my Nekoma hoodie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was in with my laundry,” Kenma shrugged again, putting some berries on his crepe before wrapping it up and taking a bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all do our laundry together,” Kuroo huffed, shaking his head a bit, “Quit stealing my shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Was Kenma’s only response as he continued to eat his breakfast, pulling out his phone a moment later to show he was finished with the conversation. Akaashi snorted softly, shaking his head a bit as he finished his first crepe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I expect to get that back! I don’t need you stealing my clothes too,” Kuroo huffed out, pointing his finger in Akaashi’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll return it,” Akaashi shrugged a bit, reaching for a second crepe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you! Someone who respects me around here,” He muttered dramatically, finally racing to grab a crepe before Bokuto managed to inhale them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did I ever say that?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow, “I also don’t recall specifying </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>I would return it to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk pulling at his lips as Kuroo sputtered something about Keiji and Kenma ‘teaming up against him’. Akaashi brought a hand up to his mouth to stifle a laugh. After a moment though, Kenma’s eyes flicked towards the living room, and he raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuro.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmpf?” He glanced up, his entire crepe stuffed into his mouth as he struggled to swallow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is there a cat in our apartment?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Two chapters in one day (well sort of, its past midnight but whatever) damn im on a roll. Anyways this fic is slow burn for a reason okay i know a lot of this seems like 'filler' and there isn't really much of a plot but honestly i just kinda like writing meaningless fluff/funny (at least to me) scenes</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are always appreciated, im so glad so many of u are enjoying the story, ily all &lt;3</p><p>*come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi spent much more time at his neighbours apartment that day than he intended. Kuroo had insisted on throwing his clothes in the laundry before he left - probably a way to ensure he actually got his sweater back - and the four of them had squished themselves onto the small living room couch to watch a movie. Akaashi had initially intended to sit on the armchair, knowing there was absolutely no way the four of them could fit comfortably on the couch. But Bokuto had grabbed him and pulled him away from the chair, leaving him squished between him and Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo spent about ten minutes pouting instead of paying attention to the movie, glaring daggers at Chieko - she’d taken an almost immediate liking to Kenma, even more so than she had Bokuto, and Kuroo almost seemed genuinely offended about it. She sat curled up in Kenma’s lap, purring like an engine as he ran his fingers through her fur. Akaashi wasn’t sure whether to be amused by Kuroo’s plight, or be confused as to how the hell his cat seemed to like his neighbours more than she liked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then again, Akaashi couldn’t really blame her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto and Kuroo had decided on some cheesy english superhero movie, both thoroughly amused with the horrible special effects as they hogged the bag of popcorn. Akaashi wasn’t at all surprised to find that ‘hilariously shitty movies’ seemed to be the pair’s favourite genre. He spent most of the time with his eyes trained on the screen, barely processing what was going on. His attention had been taken away from the plot the moment Kenma had leaned his head against his shoulder, seemingly finding the position much more comfortable than sitting up straight. The feeling of Bokuto’s leg pressed flush against his own, and Kuroo’s arm stretched out along the back of the couch, far enough that his fingers just barely brushed the back of Akaashi’s neck whenever he moved, didn’t help his focus either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally made it back to his own apartment, it was barely four in the afternoon. He set Chieko down on the floor once he’d stepped through the door, filling her food bowl and collapsing on his couch. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him; why his heart was still hammering against his ribcage despite the fact that he was no longer squished on his neighbours couch. He was no longer feeling the weight of Kenma’s head on his shoulder or the brush of his hair against his neck whenever he tilted his head to get it out of his face. He was no longer feeling the furniture shake every time Bokuto laughed, or the warmth of his leg against his bare thigh. He was no longer feeling Kuroo’s fingers ghosting over the nape of his neck whenever he shifted his position, or noticing his eyes flicking to his face every so often. What he still felt was the odd pressure pushing against his ribcage. He brought his hand up to his chest, closing his eyes. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack or something; there was something wrong with him, there had to be. Maybe he had high blood pressure, or a problem with his lungs. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because the other explanation for whatever the fuck was happening inside his chest right now was not even a possibility he wanted to consider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his eyes, wincing a bit as he felt his contacts scraping against his corneas. He stood up, quickly switching them for his glasses before flopping back down on the couch with a sigh. He debated going into his bedroom and checking his phone, but he knew that whether he saw a missed call from his mother or not wouldn’t matter; he would come out stressed no matter what. So instead he grabbed his laptop, plugging in his headphones and drowning out his own thoughts with music.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi wasn’t expecting Friday to pass smoothly, but he still had expected to be able to at least wake up normally. Apparently though, the universe had decided he didn’t even deserve that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned into his pillow, finding himself being dragged out of a blissfully dreamless sleep by the sound of his phone ringing. For a moment he froze, glancing at the device on his nightstand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d finally checked his phone the day before, he’d found no missed calls from his mother. He’d found no contact at all; not even an email. The amount of time it was taking her to address the situation was starting to stress him out even more than the idea of the call itself. As he finally forced himself to reach out and look at who was calling him, he wasn’t sure whether it was relief or anxiety that flooded his chest when he saw Bokuto’s contact on the screen and not his mother’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” He put the phone to his ear, finally sitting up as his heartbeat returned to normal. He almost immediately had to move the phone away from him to prevent damaging his eardrums as Bokuto basically screamed into the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi!” He practically wailed, the following string of words not even coherent enough for Akaashi to make out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san, I can’t understand you,” Akaashi sighed, standing up. He could already tell that whatever it was Bokuto was calling him about, it would require him to leave his apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” Bokuto finally calmed down a little, but Akaashi still put the phone on speaker just in case he started to yell again, “I need you to come over. Like, now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Akaashi arched an eyebrow; the pure fear in Bokuto’s voice was starting to worry him, and he hurried to put on his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a huge fucking spider!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi stopped immediately, glancing down at his phone with an annoyed expression. He debated hanging up right then and there, “Squish it, Bokuto-san. Goodbye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, please!” Bokuto yelled into the phone again as Akaashi’s finger hovered over the button to end the call, “Kuroo and Kenma are in class, and this thing is gigantic. It’s literally the size of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>hand</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there’s no way I’m touching it!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And what do you expect me to do about that?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t entirely sure if Bokuto’s description of its size was hyperbole or not, but the thought of a spider the size of someone’s hand sent a shiver down his spine. Even though he had no real fear of household insects, he still didn’t want to encounter something like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come over here and kill it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh, reaching down to tie up his shoes. From the shakiness in Bokuto’s voice, he surely wasn’t going to be doing anything about the arachnid, and Akaashi would feel bad leaving him to fend for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” With that, Akaashi finally hung up the phone, slipping it in his pocket and stepping out of his apartment. He didn’t bother knocking on the door to his neighbours apartment, simply opening the door and stepping inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced around, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t see any sign of Bokuto - or a spider - anywhere in the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi is that you?” Bokuto yelled when Akaashi shut the door behind him, “I-It’s in the kitchen!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yes,” He called back, slipping off his shoes. With a sigh he made his way towards the kitchen. The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside was Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god,” He let out a sigh of relief when Akaashi came into view, struggling to move his head enough to turn to look at him. He had somehow gotten on top of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>refrigerator</span>
  </em>
  <span>, squished uncomfortably into the space that couldn’t have been more than three feet tall. He was also holding a frying pan out in front of him as if it was a sword. Before he could even comment on Bokuto’s position, he noticed the spider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that?!” Akaashi couldn’t help his outburst, eyes widening as he saw the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>just… right on the kitchen island. Bokuto definitely hadn’t been exaggerating it’s size; he would’ve thought it was some super-realistic halloween decoration, if he wasn’t currently watching it scuttle around in circles on the countertop. It’s legs looked longer than Akaashi’s fingers, for fucks sake!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, just kill it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck am I supposed to kill it with? A fucking gun? It’s huge!” Akaashi yelled back. He’d never thought of himself as someone to be scared of spiders, but this? This wasn’t a normal fucking spider, it looked like some mutant bug from a goddamn horror movie. Or Australia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here! Take the frying pan!” Bokuto dangled the makeshift weapon over the side of the fridge, and Akaashi attempted to keep as much room between himself and the kitchen island as he shuffled towards his terrified neighbour, taking the pan out of his hands slowly so he didn’t startle the… </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wasn’t even comfortable calling it a spider at that point. He held it up, slowly creeping towards the kitchen counter and internally praying the damn thing wasn’t venomous. It turned to look at him with it’s disgusting eyes, and Akaashi immediately jumped back as it scurried towards the edge of the counter. He internally prayed that the thing couldn’t jump.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope I’m not doing this, you’re just gonna have to move out,” Akaashi shook his head, slowly shuffling back towards the kitchen door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t you dare fucking leave me with this thing!” Bokuto squawked as he immediately reached down to grab the hood of Akaashi’s sweater, keeping him in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get off the fridge then!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After about a minute of terrified struggling, Bokuto finally managed to hop off the fridge without breaking his neck. The second his feet touched the floor he grabbed Akaashi’s arm, dragging him out of the kitchen as the pan hit the floor with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>clang</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So we’ll just leave that for someone else to deal with, yeah?” Akaashi sighed once they were safe in the hallway, both leaning against the closed door as they attempted to quell their fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah that sounds like a plan,” Bokuto agreed, nodding with wide eyes. They stood in silence for a moment, both of them slowly calming down their breathing before Bokuto spoke again, “Jesus, I hate Friday the 13th.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think the date has anything to do with that thing being in your apartment,” Akaashi put a hand up to his mouth, unable to keep back his laugh. He didn’t know if coming face to face with that fucking mutant spider had momentarily broken his brain, or if he was just exhausted, but within seconds he was hunched over, holding his stomach and leaning back against the door for support as he shook with almost silent laughter. A moment later he heard Bokuto follow after, his booming laugh echoing in the empty hallway and making Akaashi grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It totally does!” Bokuto gasped out, wiping tears from his eyes, “Friday the 13th is unlucky!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that only a thing in the west?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, still smiling as he turned to look at Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! It’s unlucky, I swear! I broke my arm on a Friday the 13th, the first time I got dumped was a Friday the 13th, and now this! It’s a bad day,” Bokuto insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” Akaashi shook his head a bit, finally straightening up when he was sure his laughter wasn’t going to overtake him again. He’d never exactly been a superstitious person, and he’d never had any reason to believe Friday the 13th was any more unlucky than the average day, but he wasn’t going to attempt to argue Bokuto’s logic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… what do we do now?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, looking over at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought for a moment, “We could watch a movie in my apartment?” He suggested. He sort of felt bad not inviting Bokuto over; all the times they’d hung out, it had been in his neighbours’ apartment, and plus, he was stuck in the hallway because Akaashi had simply refused to kill the mutant spider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure!” Bokuto perked up, grinning, “Hell yeah! Akaashi’s apartment!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve seen my apartment before, Bokuto-san,” He chuckled softly, walking towards his own door while trying to ignore his fear of the spider somehow getting into </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>home as some sort of revenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, but we’ve never hung out there,” Bokuto shrugged, skipping after him, “Plus, it means I get to see Chieko!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a feeling you like my cat more than you like me,” He teased, opening his door and stepping inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I like you more,” Bokuto assured, nudging Akaashi with his elbow as he walked inside. Almost immediately, he rushed over to the couch where Chieko was laying, squishing her cheeks in his hands as he gave her a kiss on the forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can pick out a movie if you want. I have DVDs inside the television stand, and I also have Netflix.” Akaashi commented as he walked towards the kitchen, filling Chieko’s food bowl as he heard Bokuto rummaging around in the living room, “Do you want tea, Bokuto-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes please!” Bokuto called back. When Akaashi stepped back into the living with two mugs, Bokuto was sitting cross legged on the floor, rifling through his DVD cases, “Why are they all in English?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bought most of them during University. I took a couple courses on classic literature and english media as a whole, and I’m fond of the western film adaptations,” He explained, settling himself on the couch, “They all have Japanese subtitles though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are they all like, classic lit stuff?” Bokuto asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not all. Most of them are based on novels though,” Akaashi shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one’s your favourite?” He asked as he flipped through the cases again. Keij had to think for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like Death on the Nile, it’s from 1978. The Usual Suspects is also really good, it’s one of the few I have that isn’t based on a book.” Akaashi answered, picking up the kettle once it finished boiling and pouring two mugs of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not one of the classic ones?” Bokuto questioned, finding ‘The Usual Suspects’ and setting it down on the coffee table before putting away the rest of the cases.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t dislike any of them, but especially with classic novels, the book tends to be much better than the film,” Akaashi took a sip of his tea, watching as Bokuto put the disk into the player, humming in response to his words, “What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow as he plopped himself down on the couch, grabbing his own mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your favourite movie?” He asked, looking over to Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really have one,” He shrugged, “I don’t think I’ve ever really watched a movie I didn’t like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as he looked back at the television, nodding a bit to show he’d heard Bokuto’s words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Typical.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bokuto always seemed to see the best in… well, everything. Even shitty action movies with horrible special effects. It made sense that no matter what the movie, he could find something to like about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence (most of the time) as the movie played. Akaashi usually hated people who talked during movies, pointing out every single little detail despite the fact that the people around them were watching the same movie. However he found himself biting back a smile each time Bokuto grabbed his arm, hurriedly gesturing to the screen as he rambled on about whatever it was that caught his attention. If it had been anyone else, Keiji may have told them off or simply ignored them completely. But he couldn’t help but indulge in Bokuto’s rambling; his excitement was almost contagious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the screen finally faded and the credits began to play, they both sat in complete silence for a moment. Akaashi watched from the corner of his eye as Bokuto processed the ending of the film, a small smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what the fuck just happened?” Bokuto sputtered out, eyes still glued to the screen, “Did he just.. What happened to his hand? And his limp? Was he…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Kint was Söze,” Akaashi chuckled softly, practically watching as the gears turned in Bokuto’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha-?! But I thought it was Keaton!” Bokuto flopped back against the couch with a huff, seemingly annoyed at the fact that the twist had actually caught him by surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the point,” Akaashi chuckled, “You as the viewer are supposed to be fooled just as much as Kujan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he just.. Got away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup,” He nodded a bit, “He got away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn..” Bokuto breathed out, laughing a bit, “I can see why it’s your favourite. Is this sort of movie why you wanted to write, like, a mystery book?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi raised an eyebrow, a little surprised that Bokuto had remembered what little he’d told him about his novel’s plot, “It probably had an influence, I guess?” He shrugged, “I’ve always enjoyed movies and books like this, where you find yourself totally caught off guard by the end despite the fact that the clues were all there. I like well-written plot twists, so I guess my goal was to write a book that would elicit the same sort of reaction that you just had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you finished your first draft yet?” Bokuto turned to look at him when the movie flipped back to the ‘play’ screen, eyes wide, “You promised you’d let me read it, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I remember,” Akaashi chuckled softly, setting his long-empty mug of tea on the table, “I have one chapter left. I promise, you’ll be the first one to read it when it’s finished, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” He smiled, satisfied with the answer he got..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you hungry?” Akaashi asked, raising an eyebrow. Before Bokuto even got a chance to answer, his stomach grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little,” He laughed, pulling out his phone to check the time, “Oh! Kuroo’s class is over. Kenma’ll be finished in like, twenty minutes. We can call them and see if they wanna go get food or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Akaashi nodded, “I’ll just go get changed, if you’d like to call them?” Bokuto was at least wearing track pants and a t-shirt, completely acceptable attire to go out in public. Akaashi on the other hand would rather walk straight into his neighbours’ apartment and touch that damn spider with his bare hands than leave the house in his pajamas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? You don’t wanna go out to lunch wearing Keroppi pants?” Bokuto joked, raising an eyebrow as he poked at one of the many tiny frog faces on Akaashi’s thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I do not.” Akaashi swatted away his hand, fighting off a blush as he stood up, “I’ll be quick, then we can leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped into his bedroom, vaguely hearing Bokuto yelling a greeting to his boyfriend as he closed the door behind him. He changed quickly as he’d promised, leaving his glasses on as he changed into a pair of jeans and a maroon sweater his sister had bought him for Christmas the year before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed softly as he ran a brush through his hair, glancing over his phone’s call history to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from his mother. Still, he found nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If she’s going to call, it’s going to be today.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi chewed on the inside of his cheek, slipping his phone into his pocket. It was just past noon; his mother would be at work, and no matter how pissed she was at her son, she wouldn’t neglect her job just to bitch him out. She hadn’t called this morning, so if she was planning to contact him at all, it would probably be in the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto was off the phone by the time Akaashi stepped back out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuroo said to just meet them on campus, then we could all figure out a place to eat,” Bokuto grinned, tilting his head back to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s go then,” Akaashi grabbed a jacket from the closet, pulling on a pair of chelsea boots he hadn’t had a chance to wear just yet, “We can just take public transport, I’m guessing Kuroo took your car?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah, Kenma hates taking the bus, so he always drives him whenever he has a lecture,” Bokuto stood up, quickly turning off the television and giving Chieko another kiss on the forehead before he walked towards the door, “Wait, I don’t have any shoes.” The two of them, in their rush to leave Bokuto’s apartment without being murdered by a giant spider, had both left their shoes at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can borrow a pair of mine if they fit,” Akaashi commented, momentarily praying he and Bokuto had a similar foot size. He would seriously prefer if neither of them had to go back into the spider apartment, even if it was just to grab some shoes. Bokuto dug through the closet for a moment, pulling out a pair of slides that seemed like they would fit and slipping them on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These should be good. Let’s go!” Bokuto practically bounded out the door, leaving Akaashi to follow him with a small smile on his face.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Alright, where’re we going?” Kuroo asked as they walked towards the campus parking lot, both his and Kenma’s book bags slung over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care,” Kenma shrugged, fidgeting with the string of his hoodie as they walked through the crowd of students. He was clearly uncomfortable surrounded by so many strangers. Bokuto and Kuroo had shifted to stand on either side of him like barriers, and it seemed to make him feel a little more at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Let’s get sushi, I’m craving unagi.” Bokuto suggested, stuffing his hands in his pockets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We got sushi last time we went out,” Kuroo pointed out, “What about burgers? We haven’t gone to a restaurant with american food in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we can get burgers at a fast food place, why spend the extra money to get ‘em at a restaurant?" Bokuto scoffed a bit, “Akaashi, whaddya think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care either way,” He shrugged, pulling his jacket a little closer around him. It was cloudy out, looking almost like it was about to rain, and the wind was enough to send shivers through his body. Both Bokuto and Kuroo let out a huff as they approached the parking lot, seemingly torn on how they would decide. Neither seemed willing to give up on their choice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rock paper scissors?” Bokuto suggested, raising an eyebrow as they walked towards where their car sat in the parking lot. Kenma just shook his head slightly, climbing into the passenger seat as his roommates argued over what to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Kuroo shrugged, putting out his hand, “Throw on shoot, best two of three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, sushi won out, and Bokuto whooped in victory as he climbed in the backseat with Akaashi. Kuroo was pouting, muttering something about the match being ‘rigged’ as he dumped he and Kenma's things in the trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s rock paper scissors, Kuro. How could it possibly be rigged?” Kenma arched an eyebrow when Kuroo finally got in the car, shaking his head a bit as he put his feet up on the dashboard, holding his phone close to his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno!” He huffed, shaking his head as he tapped the directions into his GPS. Bokuto was practically vibrating in his seat, a wide grin pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon! Hurry up and drive, I’m hungry,” He joked, leaning against the back of Kuroo’s seat and reaching around to poke his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shuddup, I need to know where I’m going first!” Kuroo swatted away Bokuto’s hand, fighting to keep his pout in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit acting like a grump,” Bokuto laughed, lifting himself off the seat to press a kiss to Kuroo’s cheek. Akaashi glanced away, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his social media as he waited for the car to start moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I almost forgot,” He murmured to himself, before leaning forward and resting his chin on the passenger seat so he could talk to Kenma, “Don’t go straight into your apartment when you get home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Why?” He raised an eyebrow, turning his head slightly to look at Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a giant spider in your kitchen. Or.. it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> in your kitchen. Bokuto-san called me screaming about it and we tried to kill it, but…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...How giant?” Kenma questioned, thankfully not seeming angry at the fact that Akaashi had abandoned his apartment to the rule of the mutant spider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bigger than Bokuto-san’s hand.” He deadpanned, his nose scrunching up slightly at the memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did it look like?” He pulled out his phone, tapping something into google.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was brown, and hairy. It’s legs were probably longer than my fingers.” He explained, watching as Kenma pulled up a picture of a ridiculously large spider, holding out the phone so he could see, “Yeah, like that. But the abdomen was a lot smaller than that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s called a huntsman spider. They’re not dangerous, but their bite can hurt. If the abdomen wasn’t this big, that means it was a male, so at least we won’t have to deal with eggs,” Kenma closed out of the safari tab, pulling his game back up. Akaashi had heard of the huntsman spider - it was a surprisingly common house pest - but he had never seen one in person before. He could safely say that not a single picture on the internet could capture the terror of the damn thing,.“I’ll figure out a way to deal with it when we get home. There’s no way Kou or Tetsu are touching it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I figured… Bokuto was on top of your fridge when I came over,” Akaashi’s lips pulled up into a slight smile. The fact that Kenma didn’t even look vaguely surprised made him wonder if Bokuto being on top of the fridge was a regular occurrence.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Of course he was,” Kenma shook his head, letting out a laugh. It was almost inaudible, and if Akaashi hadn’t been leaning on the back of his seat, he wouldn’t have even heard it over the sound of Bokuto and Kuroo bickering over which route to take. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, sitting back in his seat and trying to stop his smile from growing any wider. It was the first time Akaashi had heard him let out an actual laugh - up to this point, all he’d heard was the soft exhale Kenma did through his nose whenever he found something amusing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His laugh is nice...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally the car began to move and Bokuto sat back in his seat, hurriedly plugging the aux cord into his phone before Kuroo could realize he’d grabbed it. Akaashi glanced down at his own phone, raising an eyebrow as he saw a text come through.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:42pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>if u have headphones id put em in now. theyre gonna spend the whole drive bickering about music</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:42pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t have any but i think I’ve gotten used to tuning them out by now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:43pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>smart man. thats the only way ive stayed sane this long</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:43pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>LETS PLAY 8BALL</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi resisted the urge to snort softly as the game came through. From the side view mirror, he just barely caught sight of Kenma’s lips pulling up into a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:44pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Before you judge me, I’ve never played any of these games before.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:44pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>its fine i was gonna win anyways</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>From: Me </b>
  <b>
    <em>12:44pm</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay well now I’m going to win out of spite.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not win. At any of the games Kenma sent. But by the time they arrived at the restaurant, he was at least improving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to winning out of spite?” Kenma joked, raising an eyebrow as they stepped out of the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, I’ve never played those games before,” Akaashi shrugged, “I’ll just win next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see,” He chuckled softly, shoving his phone in his pocket. Bokuto and Kuroo just looked at them in confusion, but their attention was immediately shifted to the thought of food as they stepped inside. It was fairly small, with maybe nine or ten tables and booths in total taking up space in the small dining area. The interior was nice; the entire wall looking out into the street was mostly window, and the floors and remaining walls were made out of various shades of dark wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four people, please,” Kuroo gave a small nod to the person who greeted them. They grabbed four menus, leading the group towards a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. Bokuto and Kuroo took one side, Kenma and Akaashi on the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have we ever actually been inside this place?” Bokuto leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his palm as the waitress walked away to grab their drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, pretty sure we’ve ordered takeout from here though,” Kuroo responded, glancing over the menu, “Do we just wanna order a bunch of shit and share?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright with that,” Akaashi shrugged, giving a nod of thanks as the waiter set his glass of water in front of him. Kuroo glanced up at them, ordering just about every goddamn type of sushi and sashimi on the menu. If Akaashi was a worker, he just knew he would’ve absolutely despised their table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter took down their order with a small smile, giving them a nod before telling them it was going to be a bit of a wait. Kuroo assured them it was fine, reaching for his drink as they walked away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was class?” Bokuto asked, looking between his roommates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Kenma shrugged, “It was just a regular lecture. Mostly stuff I already knew, so I </span>
  <em>
    <span>could’ve</span>
  </em>
  <span> skipped it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop trying to convince me to let you skip!” Kuroo scoffed, “You have like, one in-person lecture a week. You need to go to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had a lab, right?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he watched Kenma let out a soft huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it sucked. I barely got there on time because the damn professor moved it forward, and I got stuck with the shitty bunsen burner.” Kuroo groaned, tilting his head back, “Someone remind me why the hell I took an organic chem course again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cause you’re a nerd.” Kenma responded immediately, pulling out his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s my answer too,” Bokuto grinned, fighting off a laugh as Kuroo tried to shove him out of the booth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you have to say it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two are going to get us kicked out,” Akaashi chuckled softly, watching as Bokuto desperately clutched the table to avoid being knocked to the floor. Thankfully, it seemed to be securely attached to the ground, and Akaashi doubted that either of them had the strength to tear it straight out of the wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No we aren’t, it takes more than this to get kicked out,” Kuroo scoffed, but he stopped attempting to force Bokuto out of the booth nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you’re speaking from experience?” Akaashi raised his eyebrows, amused as Kuroo just let out a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Psh! Obviously not!” He spoke at the same moment that Kenma said ‘yes’. “Oi! Quit taking ‘Kaashi’s side, I’m starting to get the feeling you like him more than me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just looked up from his phone for a moment, staring at Kuroo with a blank expression before looking back down without responding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span> and deny it, you little gremlin,” Kuroo reached across the table, purposely messing up Kenma’s hair. The shorter man shot a glare at his roommate, reaching a hand up to smooth out the disaster Kuroo had created.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can any of you go more than five minutes without bickering?” Akaashi teased, resting his chin in his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. It’s a product of dealing with each others’ bullshit for so long.” Kuroo grinned a bit, “Besides, you’re one to talk. You bicker with us too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as much as you do it with each other,” Akaashi pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give it time. You haven’t known us that long yet,” Kenma murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Give it a couple months, you’ll see,” Bokuto laughed. Akaashi just shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m looking forward to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words slipped out before he’d even registered what he was saying, and he glanced up to find all three of his neighbours looking at him almost in shock. Just about every curse word in his vocabulary went through his mind at once. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That was weird. That was definitely weird. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What scared him most was the fact that he was being entirely honest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, he can show emotion!” Kuroo gasped, wiping away a fake tear. Akaashi resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief; okay, maybe it was weird, but so were his neighbours. At least they didn’t seem freaked out over what he’d said, “Our little Kaashi is growing up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t talk like you’re my parent, Kuroo-san, it’s weird,” Akaashi snorted, kicking Kuroo’s shin under the table as the waiter brought out their food. The conversation died down as they all gave thanks for the food and reached for their chopsticks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at that moment that Akaashi felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. The buzzing went on much too long for it to be a simple text notification, and he was almost entirely sure he felt his heart skip a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tensed up, pulling his phone out of his pocket just enough to glance at the contact name on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Call  incoming from: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>Mother</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucks sake,” He breathed out, clearing his throat, “Start without me. I’m sorry, but I have to take this call. I'll be right back.” As much as he didn’t want to, he couldn’t just ignore it. Without waiting for a response, Akaashi slipped out of the booth, making his way towards the door as quickly as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course she had to call at the worst possible moment. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> she’d call when Akaashi was out in public, with his neighbours no less, and when he had no possible way of finding any sort of legitimate privacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe Bokuto-san was right about Friday the 13th.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>as always, comments/kudos are always appreciated! ily all &lt;3</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi was thankful that the restaurant they’d chosen was far from the center of the city; it meant that the sidewalks weren’t packed with people to overhear what he was sure would be a shitshow of a conversation. He swiped his finger across the screen before he could rethink his decision to answer the call, bringing the phone to his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.” His voice came out surprisingly level despite the way his hands were shaking, fingers absentmindedly tapping at the back of his phone case in an attempt to get rid of some of his nerves. Dear god, what he wouldn’t do for a cigarette right now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Keiji.” Her tone was blank, as always, but Akaashi could tell from the moment the words left her mouth that she was annoyed. He always thought of it as a shitty sixth sense, though it had come in handy while he’d still lived in his childhood home. He always knew just when to leave the house to avoid an hour long lecture on some incomprehensibly tiny thing his mother was angry over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you calling?” He spoke again after almost a full ten seconds of silence; he wasn’t in the mood to dawdle. He wanted this conversation over with as soon as possible. He knew it wouldn't last too long; after all, his mother was at work. He could only assume she was calling on her lunch break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only she could’ve waited until she was finished her shift.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother let out a disapproving hum, clearly dissatisfied with her son’s lack of manners, “I spoke to your University a few days ago. Or should I say, I spoke to your </span>
  <em>
    <span>old </span>
  </em>
  <span>university. But I’m sure you know that already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh, his free hand moving to fiddle with the buttons on his jacket, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you read the email? Or did Atsuko call you?” She asked. There was a note of disdain in her voice when she mentioned his sister’s name. However, unlike when his sister used that tone to refer to their parents, it didn’t amuse him in the slightest. It just pissed him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both.” He answered curtly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you didn’t think to respond at all?” She questioned, an accusatory note to her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. If it was important, I assumed you would call me.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And hoped  that you wouldn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” She stayed silent for another few seconds, “Well. As I’m sure you know, the university informed me that you’re no longer registered as a student.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I am not.” Akaashi answered, resisting the urge to start pacing. The last thing he wanted was for his neighbours to glance out the front window and notice him on the phone. This was a conversation he would like to keep to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” She questioned, and he could almost imagine her arching a much-too-thin eyebrow, somehow managing to look down on him despite the fact that he’d obeen taller than her since middle school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well what?” He responded, letting a hint of challenge slip into his voice. If she wanted information, his mother was going to have to ask him directly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch your tone,” She scolded, “Where are you, if you’re not staying in your dorm anymore?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in Tokyo.” Akaashi answered, staring at the bus stop across the street without truly seeing it. He had kept his choice to move to the city a secret from his parents for a reason; they couldn’t exactly stop him, but he knew if he were faced with his mother's hard stare and his father’s silent apathy, he would’ve cracked. As much as he detested them both, they were still his parents, and they knew better than anyone how to force him to do something he didn’t want to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you transfer to complete your masters?” She asked, making it clear that there was only one answer she wanted to hear. Unfortunately for her, Keiji couldn’t provide it for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I have absolutely no intention of pursuing a master's degree. Now, or ever.” In theory, he could’ve lied. He could’ve gritted his teeth and told his mother he was planning to be a professor, and the argument that was surely about to unfold could’ve been left for another day when his lie was eventually discovered. But he was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tired of having to hide his life decisions to make his parents happy. Tired of constantly being held up to their ridiculous expectations. All his life, they’d wanted a perfect son who grew up to be a lawyer, or doctor, or a CEO. They’d wanted him to find a prim and proper wife, get an expensive house in the countryside with a picket fence. They’d had his life planned out for him before he could even speak, and much to their distain, they’d instead ended up with a gay literature enthusiast with a degree in the arts. A son who in no way fit into their idea of the ‘picture perfect’ family, despite the fact that he’d done </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make them happy for so many years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there had come a point where he realized he couldn’t live his entire life on his parents expectations. He couldn’t live a miserable life just to satisfy someone who would never truly be happy with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you expect to do anything with your life if you don’t?” The cold facade of his mother’s voice cracked for a moment, audible annoyance seeping into her tone, “At least with a masters degree, you could become a professor. It’s nothing compared to a lawyer or a doctor, but it’s something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never once said I had any interest in becoming a professor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>came up with that on your own.” Akaashi retorted, fighting to keep his voice level.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? And what else are you going to do with a creative writing or a film degree?” She scoffed, “They’re useless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you this during my second year. I want to become a writer.” He answered, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A writer..” Akaashi could almost imagine her shaking her head, dismissing the very idea of it, “You’re pursuing a lost cause, Keiji. Throwing away your future on something as stupid as becoming a writer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not stupid,” He spoke through gritted teeth, his fingers curling in the hem of his jacket as he fought to keep his temper under control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it is!” She scoffed, speaking as if Akaashi was an idiot. In her eyes, he probably was. “There are hundreds of people looking to become writers, because they’re incapable of anything else and think it’s an easy job. Tell me, have you even written anything? Or found anyone willing to publish your work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” Akaashi answered, feeling the sting of her words as if they were knives slicing cleanly through his skin, “But that’s why I moved to the city. There’s plenty of publishers, and my book is almost finished.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you justifying yourself to her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even have to spare a moment’s thought to answer that question. As much as he hated his parents and their expectations, deep down, he still longed for their approval. Just once, he wanted to know what it felt like to have a parent be proud of him for what he did. He wanted a parent who didn’t pick apart his every choice. One who didn’t berate him when he failed with cold indifference and silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet.” She repeated, voice completely void of emotion once more, “You’re pursuing this… </span>
  <em>
    <span>ridiculous</span>
  </em>
  <span> career on nothing more than a ‘yet’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I’m a good writer. And I know I can get published. I have one chapter left, and then I can finally present my work.” Akaashi’s voice was starting to waver, the bite of his own nails digging into his palm the only thing grounding him in reality. His mother had always known exactly what to say to make him feel like a child. To make him feel small, despite the fact that he was an adult capable of deciding his own future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t possibly know that. No one cares how ‘good’ you think your writing is,” She scoffed, clearly not believing her son’s declaration, “What are you going to do if people hate it? What are you going to do if they refuse to publish you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll find a publisher eventually. There are hundreds in the city, and even more around the country. I will find one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God. This is pathetic. You’ve already thrown away, what? Three years of your life on useless degrees. The least you could do is continue your studies and become a professor, instead of being content to live your life as a failure.” She let out a laugh devoid of all humour. It was cold and condescending, and it sent Akaashi over the edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough.” He snapped, his words practically dripping venom. He was shaking again, but it was no longer nerves causing the reaction; at this point, it was twenty years of repressed anger coursing through his veins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” She didn’t even sound taken aback by his outburst or his disrespect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You heard me perfectly fine.” Akaashi responded coldly, pushing himself off the wall of the building to pace on the sidewalk. He needed a way to rid himself of the restless energy gathering in his limbs, “Frankly, I could not possibly care less whether you or Hideo approve of what I’ve decided to do with my life.” He used his father’s given name for the first time in his life, venom lacing his words; if he was going to be disrespectful, he may as well go all the way, “I made my own decisions, and if they end in failure, that’s my burden to deal with. But I know they won’t, because I refuse to let them. And I have no intention of going back to school, or becoming a professor, or a lawyer, or whatever the fuck else you want me to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re just going to  throw away your future, just like your sister did?” She retorted. She wasn’t even listening to him; she was picking out what she wanted to, responding to him with nothing but condescending words and doubt in his abilities. And that stupid, blank voice that just added fuel to the fire of his frustration. He wished she would yell, or snap, or let any sort of emotion slip through her mask. He wished she would act like anything other than the robotic woman he’d known all his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare drag Atsuko into this.” He snapped, glaring at the nearest street light in place of his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not? She’s been a bad influence on you, ever since you were a kid.” His mother tutted, “And now thanks to that, you’ve moved to Tokyo in some attempt to ruin your life and embarrass our family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Kamiko,” He let scorn drip from his words as he spoke his mother’s given name. He wasn’t sure where his sudden confidence had come from, but he was going to hold onto it with everything he had. Without it, Akaashi knew he’d crumble under the weight of his mother’s words, “I moved to Tokyo because I am completely and utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span> of dealing with your bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pardon me?” His mother’s tone was cold and closed off, but there was a warning there. A warning for Akaashi to watch his tone, and be careful of what he said next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a warning he was more than happy to ignore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think I had to move to the city to find a publisher?” Akaashi scoffed, shaking his head despite the fact that his mother couldn’t see him, “I could’ve called, or emailed, but I didn’t. Because doing that meant staying in that horrible fucking town you made the decision to settle down in. Staying in that depressing house, with you. I am finished dealing with you and my father, I am fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span> of dealing with your self-centered viewpoint of the world. The fact that you could even accuse me of making any decisions on my life with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> in mind is laughable!” He chuckled, empty and cold, “I couldn’t care less what effect my life has on you. I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>give a shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>if it looks bad on you, or embarasses you. Because I’ve chosen my path for myself; for once in my life, I decided to pursue something </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted. It’s always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>been about you. I was in advanced classes from childhood because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted a successful son. I was ostracized from my classmates because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought extra tutoring sessions were more important than letting me have a childhood. I quit volleyball early because </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought it would distract me from my university entrance exams. Everything in my life, every decision I’ve made, it’s been for </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking benefit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother was silent for the first time throughout the entire conversation. Whether she was shocked by his words, or simply waiting for an opportunity to berate him, Akaashi didn’t know. But he’d started yelling, rambling on about the things he’d kept bottled up for the past two decades, and there was absolutely no way he was going to be able to stop himself now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never cared about what I wanted, or what was best for me. For someone who never wanted children in the first place, you sure as hell had an obsession with trying to control our lives! And don’t even bother denying it.” He spoke quickly, worried that if he even stopped to breathe, she would take that opportunity to cut him off, and any and all bravado he had would disappear completely. Akaashi wasn’t even sure if his mother could understand what he was saying, but he didn’t care. She probably wasn’t listening anyways. “And since Atsuko refused to bend to your selfish bullshit, you turned to me. You don’t give a fuck about the type of person I turned out to be, you didn’t care whether or not I was happy. All you cared about was molding your picture perfect child, the one you could brag about to your friends to better your reputation! You wanted your ‘precious son’ to make you look good, so you could boast about your perfect little family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Finally, his mother cracked again, anger seeping into her tone as she attempted to interrupt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you don’t have the picture perfect family worth bragging about. You’re far from perfect, that’s for sure. Nothing about our fucked up family has </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> been perfect!” Akaashi continued despite his mother’s attempts to stop him, his voice gradually getting louder by the second, “You ended up with children who hate your fucking guts, a husband who married you out of obligation, and a fucking superiority complex the size of the Tokyo tower!” He knew he was crossing a line, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi Keiji, that is enough!” She snapped, “How dare you speak to your mother like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please!” He laughed again, almost manically, “My mother? Now you want to claim that title?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you going on abo-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where was this ‘mother’ bullshit when I was five and I was the only child whose parent didn’t show up for ‘bring your mom to school’? Where was this when I was six, having nightmares that led me to go to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Atsuko</span>
  </em>
  <span> for comfort because your door was always locked? Where was this when I was twelve, asking for help on my homework, or when I was sixteen asking you to come to my volleyball matches?” Akaashi scoffed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, “You’ve never cared about being a mother before; don’t start now, when it’s suddenly convenient for you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am still your mother, even if I wasn’t bothered to indulge in those.. Ridiculous things! I fed you, I gave you a home, I-” She began but Akaashi was quick to cut her off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of them were ridiculous to me! Not once have you shown me any sort of support, not once have you been proud of my achievements. All you ever did was point out my failures and mistakes. I can’t even remember a time when you told me you loved me, for fucks sake!” He spoke through gritted teeth, forcing himself to quiet his voice, “And feeding me? Clothing me? Giving me a home? Those are </span>
  <em>
    <span>basic fucking necessities</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Why the fuck would I praise you for managing to do the bare minimum? Because that’s all you ever did!” He felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes; he wasn’t sure whether they were from frustration or if it was just his body’s way of handling the storm of emotions raging in his chest, but he wiped them away quickly, “You’ve never been a parent to me, or Atsuko. You gave birth to us, and that was about it. Both you and Hideo are horrible parents, and horrible people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s what you think of us?” His mother questioned. If she was in any way hurt by his words, her voice didn’t show it; she just sounded pissed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there’s a lot more I think of you. But I have no interest in voicing it. And I have no interest in speaking to you, or my father, ever again. I want you out of my life, as far away from me as possible. I don’t want to see you, or hear from you. I don’t even want to hear your fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>names</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” He mentally cursed himself as he heard his voice begin to crack, struggling to force out the words. But Akaashi knew that a conversation like this was not one he could come back from. He’d spent years clinging onto hope that maybe, one day, his parents would change. But that hope was long gone, and so was the guilt that Atusko had accused him of harbouring. His mother had never wanted a family, she’d had him and his sister because it was what was expected of her; why the hell should </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>care about the fact that he was technically their only child now? They clearly didn’t, if the way they treated him was any indication. “You’ve never respected a single decision I’ve made. You didn’t respect my sexuality, you didn’t respect my interests, and you clearly don’t respect the path I’ve chosen for my future. But for once, I don’t give a shit. You and father can spend the rest of your lives miserable and alone for all I care, taking to your graves the knowledge that you managed to be hated by even your own children. As far as I’m concerned, you are nobody to me. And you sure as hell are not my mother. If i never have to think of you ever again, I’ll be happy with my life, no matter how much of a ‘failure’ I turn out to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi hung up before she could respond. With shaking fingers he blocked her number before he could waste another moment's thought. As angry as he was, the guilt was starting to settle in; if he waited, or gave her the opportunity to contact him again while the wounds of their conversation were so fresh in his mind, he would break. He could feel the tears streaming down his face, leaving a burning trail across his cold skin. What was wrong with him? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> was he crying? By all accounts, this should’ve been freeing. He should’ve felt light, like he’d just made the best decision of his life. And in a way, he did; relief was flooding his chest as he processed the fact that he had just, by all accounts, cut off his parents. But it was nearly eclipsed by the guilt, and pain, leaving him stood in the center of the sidewalk, tears dripping off his chin and onto his phone screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took in a deep breath as he slipped his phone back in his pocket, bringing his hands up to wipe beneath his eyes. He turned around once his breathing was back to normal and he felt composed enough to face other people again, prepared to walk back into the restaurant as if nothing had happened. Instead, Akaashi froze in place, eyes widening as he saw Kuroo standing by the door. From the look on his face, he’d been standing there for at least the end of the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if it was second nature - and at this point, it practically was - his carefully crafted mask of indifference slipped back into place. That was the one thing he had learned from his mother; how to close himself and his emotions off from the rest of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much did you hear?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at the fact that Kuroo had eavesdropped; he was just tired, and hungry, and prepared to continue with his life as if the past however many minutes had never occurred. Kuroo sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just, uh… the last part,” He admitted, averting his eyes, “I promise, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But you were taking a while, and we got kinda worried, and… I’m sorry.” Kuroo made a face, obviously feeling guilty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Kuroo-san.” He assured, shaking his head, “Let’s just go inside.” Akaashi walked towards the door, but the feeling of Kuroo’s hand around his wrist stopped him in his tracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in a show of concern, “Do you wanna… talk about it at all?” He could tell Kuroo felt slightly awkward asking him to share his feelings, but he still felt a sense of almost relief flooding his chest. The knowledge that he had someone - three someones, actually - who would be willing to listen to him rant about his parents was comforting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi just wasn’t sure if he was willing to be vulnerable enough to vent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure which one of Kuroo’s questions he was answering; it was probably both. “Let’s go eat.” He refused to promise to talk about it later, knowing full well that he may never be ready to acknowledge the conversation that had just taken place. If only Kuroo had been a little less concerned for his well being, he could’ve hidden it from his neighbours entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akaashi..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said no, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi sent a sharp look in his direction, making his feelings clear. He almost seemed taken aback, but nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. But if you want to, later… you know all of us’ll be there.” He felt the fingers around his wrist tighten slightly; it was Kuroo’s attempt at comforting him without crossing any boundaries or making him uncomfortable. He felt a knot form in his throat; he knew his neighbours would listen if he asked, he didn’t doubt that for a second. That was just the type of people they were. But he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he couldn’t make them take that burden. He couldn’t sit there, with their concerned gazes trained on his face, and repeat the words that he had just said to his own mother. Akaashi wasn’t sure if he could deal with the consequences; wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the judgement and shock he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be behind their eyes. Even</span>
  <em>
    <span> he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was disgusted with how he’d gone about confronting his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi only gave a small nod in response, making his way back into the restaurant once Kuroo finally let go of his wrist. He forced back the knot in his throat, settling himself back in his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for taking so long. It was an important phone call.” Akaashi wasn’t technically lying, he was just… omitting some information. He felt Kuroo’s eyes on his face as he reached for his chopsticks again, filling his plate with sushi before beginning to eat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, don’t worry,” Bokuto assured, and Kenma just nodded in agreement. The atmosphere at the table had done a complete 180 since Akaashi had left. They ate in silence, with not even Bokuto and Kuroo’s bickering to fill it. He understood it was probably his fault; his neighbours sensed a change in his mood, and were trying to figure out how to deal with it. But he couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated; the silence left him alone to his thoughts, the words from his conversation with his mother playing over in his wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had crossed a line. He had said some horrible things, things that he was disgusted to even imagine coming out of his own mouth. But he didn’t have to imagine them; the quotes replaying in his head were things Akaashi had willingly said, with years of repressed emotion behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You and father can spend the rest of your lives miserable and alone for all I care, taking to your graves the knowledge that you managed to be hated by even your own children</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt guilty, but even replaying the conversation in his mind, he couldn’t find a single point where he had lied, or been even a little untruthful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that thought terrified him to his core. The fact that he could look back on such harsh words - said in the heat of the moment so quickly that his brain hadn’t truly processed them by the time they were out of his mouth - and not be able to find a single thing he hadn’t meant. Maybe he truly was just as heartless as his peers had always claimed…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should watch a movie when we get back!” Bokuto finally spoke up after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, and it was all Akaashi could do not to send him a look of gratitude. The quiet had slowly been closing in on him, making his chest seem tighter as his thoughts ran rampant of their own accord.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Kenma murmured. Akaashi’s eyes flicked towards the table for a moment when he felt something nudge against his foot, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the man seated beside him. He immediately looked away when he realized that he was already eyeing him from his peripheral vision. He resisted the urge to smile; that tiny nudge seemed to be the blond man’s own way of comforting him. Akaashi could’ve been reading too much into it, but either way, it did the trick just the same as Kuroo’s brief squeeze of his wrist, or Bokuto’s attempts to keep the uncomfortable silence at bay. It made him feel lighter, even if it was only for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What movie?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, grabbing a piece of tempura out of the small wicker basket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Usual Suspects! ‘Kaashi and I watched it earlier, it’s really good,” Bokuto grinned, looking to Akaashi as if asking him to back him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is a good movie.” He agreed in a soft voice, worried that all the yelling from earlier would make his tone uneven as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you wanna watch it again then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Akaashi’s favourite movie,” Bokuto answered immediately, only to sputter for a better explanation, “And it’s just really good! I think we should all watch it together, have another movie night!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo glanced over at Akaashi, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Do you want to? Or would you rather be alone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The fact that Kuroo was giving him an out, giving him the option to not be the only one to disagree with the idea, made an odd feeling of warmth flood into his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like fun, Bokuto-san,” He answered, giving a barely noticeable nod in Kuroo’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! We can do it at our place,” Bokuto grinned, seemingly relieved at the fact that Keiji had agreed, “We can make, like, a little bed on the floor and have a sleepover or something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before we do anything in your apartment, someone’s gonna have to deal with the spider,” Akaashi pointed out, a slight smile pulling at his lips as Bokuto’s eyes widened. Sushi and talk of a movie night seemed to have been enough to make the owl-like man forget completely about the monster that had taken over his home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuckin’ what now?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, looking between Bokuto and Akaashi with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a huntsman spider in our apartment,” Kenma answered immediately, as casually as if he were simply stating the weather. He shifted forward, taking some more sushi off the plate in the center of the table as Kuroo’s eyes darted between the three of them - clearly searching for any indication that they weren’t being serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>what now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Kuroo squeaked out, “Like… the huge brown hairy ones that are the size of-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A human hand, yes,” Kenma nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was in the kitchen when I woke up to make breakfast,” Bokuto shuddered, finishing off his drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck didn’t you kill it?!” Kuroo huffed out, his voice cracking slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried, and so did Akaashi! It just ran towards us!” Bokuto defended himself, “You wouldn’t’ve killed it either if you’d seen the thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was the worst experience of my life.” Akaashi deadpanned. If he was being honest, he might’ve even put it neck in neck with his phone call with his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you just left it there? In our </span>
  <em>
    <span>apartment</span>
  </em>
  <span>? What if it fuckin… lays eggs or something?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a male,” Kenma answered, “We’ll just go in and trap it under a bowl, then-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no no. Who the fuck is </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Kuroo shook his head, waving his hands in front of him in a motion that could only be interpreted as </span>
  <em>
    <span>not a fucking chance</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I’m not setting foot in our fucking apartment until that things gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get rid of it when we get home,” Kenma sighed, shaking his head, “For two people so strong, the fact that you’re complete cowards once you’re faced by something as harmless as a huntsman spider is almost amusing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I may be strong, but that doesn’t mean shit!” Bokuto huffed, “Spiders don’t care about strength! They’re out for blood. What am I supposed to do, knock it out?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>armed with a frying pan,” Akaashi pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so were you, and you didn’t kill it!” Bokuto retorted, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, thats fair,” He let out a breath that sounded vaguely like a laugh, finishing off the sushi on his plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we’re cowards cause we don’t wanna deal with the spider, so is Akaashi!” Kuroo shot a pointed look in Kenma’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji never walks around bragging about his muscles,” He glanced at Bokuto, “Or provoking people to hit him.” His eyes settled on Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When have I ever provoked someone to hit me?” Kuroo scoffed, but he immediately sighed as Kenma simply arched an eyebrow, “Alright, fine. Still, this double standard is unfair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then don’t be a coward and deal with the spider when we get home,” Kenma retorted, a competitive tone behind his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!”</span>
</p><hr/><p><span>They’d made it back to the complex much later than expected, even when taking Akaashi’s phone call into account. By the time they finished the ridiculous amount of sushi Kuroo had ordered, it had been almost two hours since they’d left the University campus. Bokuto and Kuroo had also insisted on stopping at a bulk candy store on their drive back to the complex, claiming that Keiji’s apartment probably only had ‘weird health snacks’. Akaashi and Kenma had been left sitting in the car, insisting they didn’t care what sort of candy the other two decided to buy and really didn’t need to go inside. Akaashi’s only condition was they got at least one thing</span> <span>that wasn’t sweet enough to induce an immediate cavity. They’d sat in the car for almost forty-five minutes, curled up on their respective seats playing imessage games in silence. Akaashi still didn’t win any of them, but even losing umpteenth times in a row to Kenma was better than being alone with his thoughts.</span></p><p>
  <span>When Bokuto and Kuroo had finally returned, they were laden with bag upon bag of various candies, as well as-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alcohol, too!” Bokuto cheered, loud enough that he could be heard through the closed doors as he and Kuroo dumped their finds in the trunk. Kenma and Akaashi had simply shared an exasperated look, amused smiles tugging at their lips. In all honesty, they should’ve known better than to trust Bokuto and Kuroo alone in </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>store, but letting them run free in a candy store that apparently also sold fancy flavoured alcohols had been a particularly bad lapse in judgement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To absolutely no one’s surprise, Kuroo did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> in fact deal with the spider when they finally returned. And neither did Kenma. All it had taken was a single look at the thing for the blond man to lose his nerve, immediately turning and walking out of the apartment. However, the fact that he hadn’t run out screaming bloody murder (like Kuroo) meant he deserved at least some credit. Apparently the thing had still been in the kitchen, which was surprising, but definitely comforting to the three men who lived there. Akaashi doubted Bokuto and Kuroo would’ve set foot in the apartment ever again if the thing had just disappeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the four of them found themselves in Akaashi’s apartment as Kenma called Yuka-san to inform her of the spider situation. As she assured Kenma she would bring in someone to handle the arachnid, Bokuto and Kuroo dragged the coffee table - which had been completely covered in bags of snacks and alcohol - to the corner of the room. The four of them haphazardly laid out layers of blankets and pillows over the carpet to create a makeshift bed, after agreeing that a pillow fort was probably impossible with Akaashi’s lack of furniture. Bokuto had insisted that curling up on the floor on a makeshift blanket nest was an integral part of any true movie night, and no one had bothered to argue. Keiji was almost thankful for it; there was no way in hell all four of them were fitting on his couch, no matter how much they squished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had managed to keep his thoughts (mostly) off of his conversation with his mother, and it was entirely thanks to his neighbours. Kuroo hadn’t brought up what he’d heard yet, but every so often Akaashi would catch him staring out of the corner of his eye, eyebrows knitted in concern. Kenma and Bokuto, though clearly less aware of the situation than Kuroo was, were both doing the same, sharing silent conversations as they all seemed to think of how to bring up Akaashi’s sudden mood switch. Apparently the fact that he was beginning to feel better hadn’t quelled their worries. And as much as Akaashi was grateful for their concern and attempts at comfort, his guilt over the phone call still weighed heavy in the back of his mind; all he wanted was to forget about it, even if only for a few hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to sit down and have a conversation about his feelings, he didn’t want to expose his horrid relationship with his parents to his neighbours. Akaashi didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be that vulnerable, he didn’t want to ruin the version of himself his neighbours had come to know. Acknowledging the things he’d let slip out in his moment of anger meant acknowledging his capacity for cruelty, and that was something Keiji was not prepared to do; especially not in front of other people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he did his best to ignore their concern as they all settled in front of the television, surrounded by plastic bags of candy and bottles of brightly coloured alcohol.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i hope you guys liked this chapter. i was a little iffy on what direction i wanted to go with the whole 'Akaashi and his Mom' situation, but i finally decided on this so i hope it's okay;;</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are always appreciated! &lt;3</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi found himself squished between Kuroo and Kenma as he switched the television input to the DVD player, sat shoulder to shoulder despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the blanket nest they’d made. Bokuto spent some time rifling through the bags of candy, and Kuroo struggled to bite off the plastic seal on a bottle of bright blue alcohol as they waited for Akaashi to press play. The first ten minutes of the movie passed in an uneventful silence, but Akaashi soon felt something nudging at his arm through the fabric of his sweater. He glanced down to see Kuroo offering him the bottle of alcohol, looking at him expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The movie’s barely started,” He murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an amused smile. Kuroo just shrugged a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like you need a drink. What’s the harm?” He responded softly, a smirk pulling at his lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, can’t argue with that.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi took the bottle from him, lifting it to his lips and downing probably about four shots worth. He pulled it back, staring at the bottle in distaste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted,” He shook his head a bit, resisting the urge to wipe his tongue with the sleeve of his sweater. There wasn’t even really any taste of alcohol; it was as if he’d just downed a liquefied bag of sugar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cotton candy flavoured, there’s no way,” Kuroo took the bottle back, downing a mouthful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It just tastes like sugar,” Akaashi shook his head a little, his nose scrunching up as he watched Kuroo drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have shitty taste,” Kuroo retorted, sticking his tongue out childishly. Keiji wasn’t sure whether to roll his eyes or laugh, elbowing Kuroo in the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean… I am friends with you.” He looked back to the television, fighting back a smirk as Kuroo nearly choked on the mouthful of alcohol he’d taken, “Your tongue is blue, by the way.” Kuroo opened his mouth to respond, but Bokuto shushed him before he could say anything, reaching behind Kenma and Akaashi to whack Kuroo on the shoulder for talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, at least hit ‘Kaashi too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Kenma reaching for the remote and pausing the movie, threatening to kick both of them out of the apartment, for them to stop bickering. Akaashi resisted the urge to laugh as Kenma pressed play again, shooting an unimpressed look at his roommates. Judging by the way he had been completely ignoring his phone, Keiji could only assume that the blond man was enjoying the film thus far. Akaashi, however, was simply trying to force himself to pay attention to what was going on on screen. He quickly found that Kuroo was just as bad as Bokuto when it came to talking during movies, nudging his leg with his knee every few seconds to get his attention. He was so focused on keeping his breathing even every time Kuroo leaned in to whisper something to him that he could barely pay attention to the movie. He almost would’ve preferred Bokuto’s style of shouting and grabbing his arm to the feeling of Kuroo’s breath ghosting across his ear. The fact that he could feel the alcohol buzzing through his veins, causing an odd tingly feeling to settle in his hands, wasn’t helping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And still, the conversation with his mother weighed heavy in the back of his mind, no matter how much Kuroo’s whispering was distracting him. It was like a fly he couldn’t shoo away, buzzing around him and just waiting for him to start ignoring it so it could get his attention again. The stupid voice in the back of his head wouldn’t shut it’s fucking trap, repeating the events of the phone call over, and over, and over again. Maybe the alcohol would help to drown it out - it would be worth suffering the disgusting taste of that cotton candy abomination if it meant he could ignore the twisting feeling in his stomach for a couple hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last few minutes of the movie gave Akaashi some sort of reprieve. Even Bokuto stopped rifling around in the candy bags, despite knowing full well how the movie ended. He was much more focused on his neighbours’ reactions than his own thoughts. When the credits began to roll, the room descended into complete silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only lasted for about five seconds, and surprisingly, Kenma was the one to break it.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What the fuck?!” He leaned forward, looking at the screen incredulously. It was the loudest Akaashi had ever heard him speak, and he had to bring a hand up to his mouth to stifle a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Kenma’s words seemed to snap Kuroo out of his own daze, “Wait, did I understand that ending right? Was the fucker with the weird hair the guy the whole time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Kint was Söze,” Akaashi answered, laughing a little as Kuroo looked between him and the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Keaton didn’t fake his own death,” Kenma commented, still staring at the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Kint actually killed him in the beginning,” Akaashi answered, “And ‘Kobayashi’ was just an accomplice of Kint’s, he didn’t actually do anything that he told Kujan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, yeah… I see why that’s your favourite movie, that was pretty good,” Kuroo chuckled, reaching for the disgustingly sweet bottle of alcohol and downing another mouthful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same,” Kenma murmured, a small smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See?” Bokuto gestured wildly, “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He pointed at Kuroo, “asked why I’d wanna watch it again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad it didn’t disappoint,” Akaashi chuckled softly, reaching for the bag full of various bottles of alcohol. He had no clue why they’d bought so much - there was absolutely no way the four of them would be drinking seven bottles - but at least that gave him a better chance of finding something that wasn’t disgustingly sweet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what next?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, “We gonna watch another movie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! We should play a drinking game,” Bokuto suggested immediately. Before anyone could even respond, he shifted away from the couch, gesturing for Kuroo to form a circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With four people?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes as Kuroo immediately followed Bokuto’s lead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Kuroo shrugged, “It’ll be fun, c’mon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we even going to play?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, finally finding a bottle at the bottom of the bag that didn’t seem absolutely horrendous. It was labelled ‘hazelnut espresso’ - it probably wouldn’t be great, but it would definitely be better than the cotton candy flavour. It also didn’t seem to be pure liquor, so maybe Akaashi would be able to avoid a hangover as horrible as the last one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about that new one we bought, like, last week?” Bokuto suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buzzed?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, and Bokuto clapped his hands together, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! That’s the one!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The game is in our apartment,” Kuroo pointed out, “so unless you’re willing to brave the mutant spider, there’s no way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bokuto seemed to deflate, shuddering at the idea of entering his apartment, “Shit, right…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s probably some sort of website that can come up with prompts,” Akaashi pointed out, ripping open the plastic seal on the bottle with his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, what was that one Terushima told us about?” Kuroo glanced at Bokuto, “It had, like, a bunch of drinking game questions ‘n stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One sec, I think he texted me a screenshot a while back,” Bokuto pulled out his phone, fumbling with it for a moment before setting it in the center of their shitty circle, “Alright, found it. I’m pretty sure it’s the same as Buzzed, just read the prompt and if it applies, you gotta drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seems simple enough.” Akaashi commented, glancing over at Kenma, “Are you going to drink? I can get you a soda or something if you don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Kenma, drink! You can’t always be the only sober one,” Kuroo pouted, watching as he seemed to mull over the idea, “I didn’t buy that horrible apple-flavoured shit for nothing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll drink,” He finally commented, rolling his eyes as both of his roommates let out a round of cheers. He reached for the bag of alcohol, finally pulling out what Akaashi assumed was the ‘apple-flavoured shit’ Kuroo had mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m up first!” Bokuto grinned, reaching forward to hit the button to generate a prompt, “Every player with dyed hair takes a drin- this sucks!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo cackled a bit, watching as Bokuto and Kenma both downed a mouthful of their respective alcohols before leaning forward to take his turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” He waited for the prompt to load, leaning over the phone. If the pink tint to his cheeks was any indication, he was already tipsy, “What’s the most scandalous location you’ve had sex in? Worst one drinks. Alright, mine’s a park bench.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So’s mine,” Bokuto grinned, fist-bumping Kuroo. Kenma just rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shower,” Kenma muttered, clearly not amused by the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A lecture hall.” Akaashi answered, raising an eyebrow as all three of his neighbours immediately turned to look at him, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?” Kuroo seemed torn between laughter and disbelief, “It wasn’t, like… during a lecture, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously not!” Akaashi huffed, feeling heat creeping up the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, you can’t just say that and not tell the story!” Bokuto grinned. He resisted the urge to smack him with one of the pillows laying on the ground.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I hooked up with an old TA of mine, and neither of us had a free dorm.” Akaashi responded curtly, almost wishing he had simply lied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it, like… during the day?” Kenma raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the professor was out teaching another lecture and he was supposed to be grading papers,” He muttered, “Can we move on already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but you definitely gotta drink. At least ours was at night,” Kuroo snickered a bit as Akaashi reluctantly downed a mouthful of alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still think that a park bench is worse than a lecture hall,” He grumbled, reaching forward to hit the button, “Drink if you’re dead inside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither he or Kenma even hesitated before downing some of their drinks, earning slightly concerned looks from Bokuto and Kuroo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look at me like that, you’re both the reason I’m drinking,” Kenma deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fair,” Kuroo snorted, as Bokuto just faked a pout. Kenma just rolled his eyes and leaned forward to hit the button.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“C’mon, c’mon. One more!” Kuroo insisted, pouting at Kenma as he suggested they put the game away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji had no clue how long they’d been playing. He just knew he had barely any alcohol left - he felt like the game was targeting him - and that he probably would want to die when he woke up the next morning. No one else seemed any better off; Bokuto’s face had been red since the sixth round, Kuroo had already been tipsy when they’d started, and Kenma was talking more animatedly than Keiji had ever seen him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered if everyone else had the same reaction seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>drunk as he was currently having to drunk Kenma. Either way, he was having a hard time keeping a grin on his face every time Kenma grumbled about having to drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone’s gonna end up throwing up!” Kenma retorted, lips pulled into an almost dopey grin. Their ‘circle’ had been destroyed a long time ago; Bokuto was laying on his stomach, downing mouthfuls of liquor even when the game didn’t tell him to drink, Kuroo had sprawled himself out on his side like something from a dramatic renaissance painting, and Kenma had started to lean into Akaashi’s side. Whether it was because he wanted to, or because the alcohol was making him lose his balance, Keiji didn’t know. And he didn’t really care, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the point!” Kuroo grinned, “Where’s the fun if no one throws up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone ruins my carpet or blankets, I will personally strangle you,” Akaashi threatened, sending a pointed look in Bokuto’s direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! I ain’t gonna be the first one to break,” Bokuto spoke around a mouthful of sour keys, throwing one at Akaashi for good measure. He caught it in his mouth, nearly losing his balance and falling over as he tried to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinky,” Kuroo joked, letting out a noise of surprise when Akaashi immediately grabbed a pillow off the couch, chucking it at his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> called throw pillows, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine! One more, then we’re done. We’ve almost gone through, like, a bottle each,” Kenma rolled his eyes a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bottles are small!” Kuroo waved him off, “And they’re not pure liquor, they’re like… kinda mixed with juice or whatever, so it’s fine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Bokuto reached forward, hitting the button on the phone screen, “Who’s the biggest asshole? Whoever has the most votes drinks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a drink, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi spoke up immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We haven’t even voted!” Kuroo huffed out, his words coming out a little slurred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t need to,” Kenma retorted, fighting off a grin as Kuroo angrily finished off his bottle of alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is bullshit, I feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>targeted, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>insulted, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I feel… like I might throw up,” Kuroo brought a hand up to his mouth to stifle a hiccup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to the damn bathroom then!” Akaashi stuck out a foot, kicking him in the leg until he stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m goin’, I’m goin!” He grumbled, stumbling towards the bathroom and slamming the door much too loud behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We shoulda made bets on who was gonna yick first!” Bokuto huffed, rolling over to lay on his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was no point, we all would’ve voted for Tetsu,” Kenma snorted, “He was drinking before anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Akaashi laughed, leaning back against the couch with a grin. The only sounds that could be heard were Bokuto rifling through the candy bags and Kuroo in the washroom, clearly not having a good time. However, the sound of a phone buzzing joined in a moment later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whose is that?” Bokuto glanced up, looking around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mine,” Keiji answered, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he grabbed it off the couch, “Huh?” He glanced at the caller ID, his eyes taking a second to focus. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why’s Atusko calling?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is it?” Bokuto shifted to sit up, attempting to get a good look at Akaashi’s phone screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my sister,” He covered his mouth with a handle to stifle a burp as he answered the call, “‘Ello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finally! I’ve been texting you for like, ten minutes you dick!” She practically yelled into the phone. He moved it away from his ear a bit, his nose scrunching up a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi, quit being so loud,” Akaashi grumbled, his words almost incoherent, “What's goin’ on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you drunk?” She avoided his question entirely, letting out a huff, “Did you talk to mom? She sent me a fucking huge email, I haven’t even bothered to read it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” He muttered, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. It dropped almost immediately, however, when he processed Atsuko’s question. As he’d predicted, the alcohol had done it’s part in silencing the stupid voice in the back of his brain, and he genuinely had to think for a second to figure out what Atsuko was talking about. In all honesty, it’d done a pretty fuckin’ good job at silencing his thoughts altogether, “Wait, what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus christ, you’re hammered,” She breathed out, seeming torn between amusement and annoyance, “Did mom call you? Yes or no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, she did,” He huffed, shaking his head a bit “She’s a cunt, end of story, and I never wanna see her again.” Both Kenma and Bokuto looked at him with wide eyes, surprised at his harsh language.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, did you…” Atsuko trailed off, sounding almost hopeful. No matter how drunk he was, Akaashi could still read his sister’s tone enough to guess the end of the sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.” He snorted, a small grin pulling at his lips. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if it was the fact that he knew his sister completely understood why he did what he did, but he was surprised to find the guilt of what had happened with his mother was no longer gnawing at his stomach. Akaashi was sure it would be back by morning, but for now he was happy to relish in the relief of knowing his parents were, for better or worse, out of his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” She laughed, “God, no wonder she sent me a whole fucking paragraph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, probably because I blocked her number the second I hung up. Sorry,” He snickered a bit, and Atsuko just scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. She fuckin’ deserves it,” He could imagine her grinning proudly, hand on her hip as she spoke much too loud into the phone, “Alright, I’ll let you get back to your party.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a party,” Akaashi retorted, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, rude!” Bokuto spoke up, and from the sound of his sister’s laughter, it was loud enough to be heard on the other end of the line, “It’s always a party when you’re with us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s that? New boyfriend?” She questioned, a teasing tone in her voice. Keiji felt his face heat up immediately as he sputtered for a response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Atsuko,” was all he managed to get out, immediately hanging up the phone and tossing it onto the couch. He made a mental note to tell her next boyfriend the story of when she almost choked on a frog as a child.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aww, did she say something embarrassing?” Bokuto teased, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Akaashi huffed out, fighting off a grin as he stuck out a foot to kick him in the knee. He attempted to ignore the way his heart was hammering against his ribcage at the idea of Atsuko referring to the owl-like man as his boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I actually hear Akaashi call someone a cunt or was that some vomit-induced hallucination?” Kuroo commented, arching an eyebrow when he finally stepped out of the bathroom. He looked a little more sober and a lot less nauseous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope, you heard right,” Kenma snorted softly, shifting to lay down on his stomach. Keiji immediately missed the warmth against his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, who were you on the phone with?” Kuroo chuckled, settling himself back down on the blanket nest beside Bokuto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister. We were talking about our lovely mother,” He scoffed, shaking his head as he downed a mouthful of alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was that who you were on the phone with earlier?” Kuroo asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern. He wasn’t sure if throwing up had legitimately sobered him up, or if his worry was just strong enough to come through even in his inebriated state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup.” Akaashi answered, letting out a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you eavesdrop on his phone call or something?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, elbowing Kuroo in the side, “Dude, come on!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, interrupting before the bickering could continue, “Can we just not talk about that? I’d like to pretend like it never happened.” His neighbours glanced at each other for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure that’s a good idea?” Kenma was the one to speak up, “I mean… you were pretty worked up after the call. Ranting might help a bit, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk,” Kuroo jumped in, “You never talk about shit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kenma retorted, shooting him a glare that clearly told him it was not the time. Somehow, he seemed more sober than he had been only a couple minutes ago; the only indication that he was drunk at all was the flush in his face and the volume of his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Akaashi admitted, leaning against the couch and tipping his head back. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with his neighbours’ pitying stares. A part of him wished Atsuko had waited ‘till the morning to call, “I don’t know if I want to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not try?” Bokuto suggested, and despite the fact that he was staring at the ceiling, he could feel his wide eyed stare, “If it just makes you feel worse, you can stop. We won’t push ya or anything, but… it’s worth a shot, ain’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not worried about feeling bad,” He let out a soft laugh, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes, “I’m worried about what you three would think of me.” Akaashi was now entirely sure that his absence of guilt hadn’t been because of the alcohol. Because now, faced with the idea of telling his neighbours what had transpired, it was back in full force. Mingled with fear, it gnawed at his stomach, and when he closed his eyes he could practically imagine the three of them looking at him with disgust behind their eyes instead of concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuroo questioned, sounding confused by his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happened on that phone call, you feel guilty about.” Kenma spoke up, and when Akaashi glanced at him, he was staring back with a knowing gaze, “I didn’t hear any of it, but that much is obvious. And you’re worried we’re gonna judge you for whatever you said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi blinked, a little confused. He wasn’t sure whether he was grateful for Kenma, and the fact that the blond man was able to voice his thoughts better than he could, or whether he was terrified. He’d never once in his life had anyone be able to read him - and yet here was Kenma, staring at him with golden eyes that seemed to look into his soul. Reading him as if he were an open book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.. I am,” Akaashi chuckled softly, letting his head fall back onto the couch, “I said some shitty things. And I don’t regret any of ‘em. I’m worried if I told them to you, you’d realize just how horrible a person I truly am.” The admission fell from his lips before he could stop it. The moment of silence that followed felt like an eternity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For someone so smart, you’re a real moron,” Bokuto spoke up, scoffing a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re one to talk,” Kuroo snorted, seemingly unable to pass up the opportunity to jab at his boyfriend, “But he’s right. Why the hell would we think you’re a horrible person?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you heard wasn’t even the worst thing I said,” Akaashi retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, considering the way you spoke about your mother, I doubt whatever you said wasn’t warranted,” Kenma murmured, “I don’t know anything about the woman, but you’re not one to dislike people without a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you know that?” Akaashi retorted, letting an almost bitter laugh fall from his lips, “You all seem to forget you’ve known me for… what? Eleven days now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that got to do with anything?” Keiji lifted his head slightly, watching as Kuroo raised an eyebrow, “We like who you are. We wouldn’t keep you around if we didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s exactly why I don’t want to tell you, Kuroo-san.” Akaashi retorted, downing another mouthful of alcohol, “You wouldn’t keep me around if you didn’t like me. And if, for some reason, the person I truly am makes you dislike me…” He trailed off, letting the three men assume what else he was going to say. As much as he appreciated Kuroo’s attempts to reassure him, it did nothing but feed into his fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, enough with the bullshit about who you ‘truly are’.” Bokuto jumped in, eyebrows furrowing, “I don’t know what kind of person you think you are, but it’s clearly not the same one we see. We already </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> who you are. Sure, you’re hard to read, and you’re quiet, and you have a pretty bad resting bitch face, and maybe sometimes you’re so honest it comes off as brutal-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really don’t think this is helping-” Kuroo attempted to interrupt Bokuto’s drunken rambling, but a pointed look from Kenma shut him up immediately. Akaashi had absolutely no idea where Bokuto was going, but he stayed quiet nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we already know that shit about you!” Bokuto continued as if he had never been interrupted, “We knew that shit from the moment we met you! Hell, you blatantly accused Kuroo of being a murderer! We don’t care about that, or else we wouldn’t’ve spent so much time hanging out with you. Yeah, sure, you’re honest to a fault and maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> think you’re a shitty person, but we </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you aren’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh, “Bokuto-san, you can’t-” He barely got the words out before Bokuto shushed him, his golden eyes ablaze with what almost seemed like anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t pull that shit. So what, we haven’t known you that long. You haven’t known us that long either! So what if we don’t know every single thing about each other, we still know who you are.” Bokuto crossed his arms, his tone almost aggressive. It was an almost amusing juxtaposition, seeing him glaring daggers when the words coming out of his mouth were so sincere, “You’re nice as shit, even if you pretend you aren’t. You care about so many things, and even if they seem small or dumb to other people, you don’t give a shit. You’re a fuckin’ nerd who likes classic lit and mystery movies. You stress over everything, you’re a perfectionist, you have horrible taste in coffee and candy. You always try to cover your mouth when you smile because you don’t like how it looks. You’re insecure, but you hide it with confidence and hope no one notices. And on that note, you bottle up your emotions because you think that sharing them will inconvenience the people around you. But most of all, you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good fucking person</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akaashi. And I don’t know how the fuck you could think otherwise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was almost shocked into silence, staring at Bokuto with wide eyes as he finished his ranting. He genuinely couldn’t think of a single rebuttal; he was still having trouble processing the things he had said. He’d always prided himself on the way he could hide his emotions and thoughts, and yet here Bokuto was, presenting them to him on a silver platter like he was reading from a book. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to laugh or cry at the aggressive show of support, so instead he just stared, unable to find the words to respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that about sums it up, yeah,” Kuroo spoke up when Akaashi didn’t, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “And all this shit this is coming from the birdbrain who called you hard to read a second ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said hard, not impossible,” Bokuto grumbled, elbowing his boyfriend in the side. Kuroo just waved him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And by the look on your face, I’d guess you didn’t even think we’d noticed this stuff, right?” He continued, arching an eyebrow, “You’re not as much of a mystery as you think you are, Akaashi. And I’d bet you could do the exact same thing to us that Bokuto just did to you.” Kuroo shot him a knowing look, and Akaashi didn’t bother to argue. He knew, even in his inebriated state, that he could do it without a second thought, “We already know the shit you don’t like about yourself. So quit trying to shut us out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We aren’t going anywhere.” Kenma’s voice was soft when he spoke, and despite the fact that it was a much less aggressive show of support than what his roommates had offered, it still hit Akaashi just as hard. He swallowed back the knot that had formed in his throat, glancing off to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” He murmured, finishing off the last of the alcohol and setting the bottle aside, “If you’re that sure of it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are! Do I need to repeat myself?” Bokuto interrupted, raising his eyebrows as if waiting for Akaashi to challenge him. He just let out a laugh, instinctively bringing a hand up to his mouth to try to stifle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Bokuto-san. I heard you the first time,” He couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. His fear wasn’t completely gone; it was much too ingrained into his mind for something as simple as a drunken rant to get rid of it. He’d spent too many years of his life listening to whispers about his cruelty and how bad a person he was for things to be that easy. But he felt a new lightness in his chest, a small voice telling him that he may have been overthinking things. Telling him that opening up to the men in front of him may not be such a bad idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So?” Kenma spoke up again, “You can tell us, if you want to. You don’t have to… but if that was all that was stopping you, then you shouldn’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi still hesitated for a moment, thinking over Kenma’s words before he nodded, “It’s a long story, but if the three of you really don’t mind…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t!” Kuroo and Bokuto spoke in unison, glancing at each other with matching grins before their attention focused back on Akaashi. With a soft sigh, he tipped his head back again, looking up at the ceiling as he started to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She basically called me to bitch at me, because I didn’t decide to go and get my masters,” He spoke softly, but the apartment was already so silent that he could’ve heard a pin drop, “She always wanted me to go and become a fuckin’ doctor or something like that. So in my first year, I lied to her and told her I was taking a variety of medical and science courses to decide exactly what path I wanted to take. She found out about my actual major when the person I bought my textbook off of sent it to my home address by accident, and she freaked out. Told me I had to switch my major, even though I’d already paid for all my courses,” Akaashi explained, absentmindedly picking at the fluff on his sweater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a bitch,” Bokuto commented, letting out a noise of surprise when he was elbowed in the side. Akaashi just let out a soft laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that sums her up pretty well. She demanded I give her access to my school account on the condition I could continue with my chosen degree. Not that it was her choice to make, but I did it, because I was still relying on them for a home outside of the school year.” He sighed out. Akaashi figured it was much easier to give them the background information before anything else; it would, at the very least, help him avoid some questions, “She got it into her head that I would get my masters and become a professor, and I just didn’t correct her. I didn’t want to risk an argument. In my third year, she went onto my account without my knowledge and ‘accidentally’ dropped one of my courses for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s stupid, what the hell did she expect that to do?” Kuroo scoffed a bit, resting his chin in his palm as he listened to Akaashi talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No clue,” He shook his head, “But I changed my information and locked her out of my account. She called my old university, I can only assume to get access to my account again, and they told her I wasn’t enrolled. So she called me, and we got in a pretty big fight. She started insulting my major, told me that I was throwing away my future by wanting to be a writer. Kept going on about how I probably wouldn’t get published, and how I’d end up a failure if I didn’t get my masters. She tried to make up some bullshit about how I was only trying to embarass her.” Akaashi scoffed, already feeling anger bubbling in his stomach as he paraphrased his mother's rant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked away from the ceiling to see Bokuto opening his mouth to say something, but a slap to the knee from Kuroo shut him up quickly, so Keiji continued to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just snapped, I guess. She wouldn’t stop talking, and I just blew up on her. I told her I was finished dealing with her bullshit, and that I moved to Tokyo so I could get away from her and my father and that stupid town I grew up in.” Akaashi sighed softly, anxiety swirling in his chest. He was paraphrasing, of course, but it still sounded bad when he heard it come from his mouth, “I told her that I didn’t care if I embarrassed her. I’ve done </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>she wanted since I was a kid, everything I did it was because she wanted the perfect son and the perfect family.” He shook his head a bit, looking back up at the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least this way, he could hide the tears that were starting to form in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She made me quit volleyball, she forced me into extra tutoring and advanced lessons. I did everything she wanted and it was still never enough. She was disappointed about my interests, my sexuality, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>I did wrong. So I did something for myself instead, because if she was going to be disappointed no matter what, the least I could do was be happy,” His words were almost a whisper, but with how quiet his neighbours had become, he had no doubt they could still hear him, “I accused her of being overly obsessed with controlling my life despite the fact that she’d never wanted children in the first place. I told her that she’d never cared about what I wanted, she only cared about creating the illusion of a perfect family, so she could brag about it. Told her that our fucked up family was never perfect, and that all she got out of her efforts were children who hated her, a husband who didn’t even want to marry her, and a superiority complex… I believe I equated it to the size of the Tokyo tower?” Akaashi let out a bitter chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn…” Kuroo breathed out. Akaashi refused to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not even all of it,” He shook his head a bit, “She tried to pull the ‘I’m your mother’ bullshit, and I told her she’d never been a mother to me, and that she had no right to suddenly claim that title when it was convenient for her. I told her that all she ever did was give birth to me and my sister, and that her and my father were horrible parents and people. And then I… cut her off, I guess. I told her I never wanted to hear from or speak to her again. I told her she could die miserable and alone for all I care, with the knowledge that she was hated even by her own children. And then… the stuff you heard,” Akaashi gestured vaguely in Kuroo’s direction, “I told her that if I never had to see them again, I would be happy. No matter how much of a failure I turned out to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few beats of silence following Akaashi’s words. He could practically hear his own heartbeat, blood rushing through his ears as he waited for absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>response from his neighbours.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well damn, remind me to never get into an argument with ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto joked, and when Keiji finally looked away from the ceiling, he had an amused grin on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too. I don’t think my heart could handle being analyzed like that,” Kuroo put a hand over his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two are bad people,” Kenma shook his head, fighting off a smile at their antics, “You have nothing to be guilty about, Keiji. From the sound of it, she’s horrible… and you did the right thing, choosing your own happiness over her expectations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t realize how much tension had been in his shoulders until it finally released, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he processed Kenma’s words. They didn’t hate him, they didn’t think he was a horrible person or a horrible son. They didn’t think he was cruel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s right, ‘Kaashi. Your mom really does sound like a cunt,” Kuroo’s grin dropped a bit, his tone a bit more serious, “You deserved better than that shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Fuck her and her bullshit. You’re not a failure! You’re fuckin’ great, and if she can’t see that, it’s her problem,” Bokuto agreed, nodding, “My mom can adopt you or something, she’d love you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s the solution here, Bo,” Kuroo snickered a bit, “She’s already got enough kids, don’t dump another one on her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi just brought a hand up to his mouth, stifling a watery laugh as he wiped at his eyes with his free hand, “I appreciate it, Bokuto-san, but I think I’m alright without any parents for a while. I still have my sister, after all. It’s not like I’m alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hello?” Kuroo waved, raising his eyebrows, “You’ve got us too, stupid!”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“He’s right,” Kenma glanced over at him, and Akaashi caught sight of Bokuto nodding like an over-excited bobble head, “We’re not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt tears welling up in his eyes again, and he brought a hand up to his mouth. A mix between a laugh and a sob escaped his body, and he felt like his chest was going to burst. This must be what it felt like, to be accepted and cared for unconditionally. The revelation was almost too much for his drunk mind to handle. Within seconds he felt warmth settle on either side of him, an arm wrapping around his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, Kuroo and Kenma were on either side of him, and Bokuto was sitting in front of him, watching with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at what you did!” Kuroo whisper-yelled at Kenma, obviously joking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright,” He assured, sniffling a little as he fought off a smile, “I’m alright, don’t worry. I’m just…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not used to this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t used to opening up. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable, or ranting. He wasn’t used to being faced with a constant outpouring of acceptance and care. It was alien to him, having a support system that didn’t consist solely of his own mental strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he was being honest, he could get used to it, if it was with these three. And according to Kenma; </span>
  <em>
    <span>We aren’t going anywhere.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i was debating on making Akaashi refuse to open up, but y'all in the comments seemed v excited for some drunken fluff/comfort so i decided against it lmao</p><p>also bokuto and kuroo being aggressively supportive is my fav can u tell? lmao</p><p>anyways, i hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! as always, ily all and comments/kudos are v appreciated! &lt;3</p><p>oh and also, i'm moving away for uni this wednesday (sept 2nd)!!! so forgive me if im a little slower on updating, since my classes start on the 8th. but i promise i wont just abandon the fic, i love it too much to do that</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning Akaashi woke up swaddled in blankets, warmth surrounding him from every angle. He opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep as he attempted to adjust to his surroundings and remember how the night before had ended. His head was already pounding, but his nausea wasn’t horrible. He’d had to make his way to the bathroom not long after he’d finished ranting so he didn’t throw up on his neighbours or his own blankets. It hadn’t been fun, throwing up a gross concoction of sushi and alcohol that tasted worse the second time around, but he was almost thankful for it now. It meant he wasn’t forced to untangle himself from the mess of warm limbs and pillows just yet.</p><p>Once Akaashi had finally stumbled back into the living room, collapsing on the blanket nest, they’d started another movie; some comedy flick that Bokuto had insisted would cheer him up. He didn’t know about his neighbours, but he hadn’t even made it ten minutes before he’d fallen asleep with his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. They must’ve moved him once he’d passed out.</p><p>He glanced down, fighting off a small smile as he saw Kenma curled into his chest. He didn’t know exactly how they’d ended up in some huge cuddle pile, but he was far from complaining. Everyone else seemed out cold, and he allowed himself a moment to appreciate the intimacy of the moment. His one arm was pinned down to the floor by Kenma’s head, his other draped over his and Bokuto’s waists. Bokuto seemed almost half on top of the smaller man, his face buried in his shoulder as he snored away. He didn’t want to move or risk waking Kenma, but he felt the weight of Kuroo’s arm around his own waist, his other one beneath his head as a makeshift pillow. He was sure if he turned his head, he would catch sight of his face, relaxed and free of his usual smug grin.</p><p>
  <em> You’re enjoying this too much, no? </em>
</p><p>He pushed away the voice in the back of his head, simply choosing to close his eyes and take comfort in the moment of calm. Akaashi could wait to overanalyze the way his heart was beating against his ribcage, or the way he shuddered whenever Kuroo’s warm breath ghosted over the back of his neck. He could wait to examine the way his lips pulled up into a smile when he felt Kenma’s hands clutch at his sweater and shuffle closer, or the hitch in his breath when he felt Bokuto shift, the warmth of his arm nearly burning his skin when Akaashi’s shirt rode up slightly. It could all wait for later; now, he was simply content to drift back off to sleep.</p><p>Or, he would’ve been. But he was pulled away from the edge of unconsciousness when he felt Kuroo shift behind him, his arm wrapping tighter around his waist and pulling him backwards. He stayed still, unsure if the other was simply moving in his sleep or if he had started to wake up.</p><p>His eyes widened slightly when he felt Kuroo bury his face in his shoulder. His bed head was worse than usual, and it tickled the side of Akaashi’s neck whenever Kuroo moved. He had to force himself to start breathing again when the other didn’t move away, still clinging to him like his life depended on it.</p><p>“Mhm… Mornin’” He murmured, lips moving against Akaashi’s clothed shoulder as he breathed out the words. <em> He’s half asleep, he probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. </em>He thought to himself, trying to keep his breathing and his heartbeat even.</p><p>All that went to shit when he suddenly felt a pair of lips against his neck, lazily mouthing at the sensitive skin. He froze completely, a shiver running it’s way down his spine. <em> Holy shit holy shit holy SHIT. </em>He was dreaming; he had to be. He opened his mouth to say something, but he immediately snapped it shut when he felt the scrape of sharp teeth against his neck. Whatever words he was going to say flew directly out of his mind, as Kuroo pressed open-mouthed kisses against his skin, slowly moving up until he came to the spot just below his earlobe. He finally snapped himself out of his daze when he felt teeth again, jerking away and turning to look over his shoulder.</p><p>“Kuroo-san!” He finally managed to choke out a whisper, feeling his cheeks burning as he processed what had just happened. He watched as Kuroo opened his eyes, blinking at Akaashi as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.</p><p>“Wh-” He cut himself off, eyes wide as he suddenly seemed to process what had happened. Kuroo immediately jerked up, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-I thought, y’know-”</p><p>“You thought I was Bokuto-san,” Akaashi supplied, slowly prying Kenma’s hands off of his sweater and carefully sitting up so he didn’t disturb them.<br/>“Y-Yeah, right. I thought you were Kou. Holy shit, I’m sorry,” He let out a breathless laugh, and Akaashi watched as he brought a hand to his face, attempting to hide his blush. Akaashi at least took some comfort in the fact that Kuroo seemed just as embarrassed about the ordeal as he was.</p><p>“It’s alright,” He breathed out, despite the fact that his racing heart said otherwise, “I’m just gonna use the washroom.” He murmured, standing up and forcing himself to walk at a normal pace towards his bathroom. As soon as he closed the door, he braced his hands on the counter, staring at the sink.</p><p>His brain had completely short circuited; he was having trouble even organizing his thoughts, and when he looked at himself in the mirror, he saw his face was even more red than he’d initially imagined. Akaashi brought a hand up to his neck, shuddering as his cold fingers failed to chase away the lingering feeling of lips against his skin.</p><p><em> Dear god, I need to get a grip… </em> He thought, staring into his own bloodshot eyes as he tried to chase away the fluttering feeling in his stomach. His heart was beating loud in his ears, and he felt like the organ was going to burst through his chest at any moment. <em> It’s just because you’re touch starved. It’s nothing else. </em></p><p>God, how he wished that were true. If he repeated it enough, maybe he could convince himself it was. He wasn’t an idiot, but he also was not mentally or emotionally prepared to sort through his thoughts while he was hungover, standing in his bathroom with his neighbours just on the other side of the door. So he ignored them, bottled them up in the back of his mind to be dealt with at a later date, and schooled his features into a neutral expression. He splashed his face with cold water and pressed his palms to his burning cheeks, hoping to chase away his blush.</p><p>He quickly brushed his teeth, checking his blush one last time in the mirror to make sure it was gone, before he stepped out of the bathroom. Kuroo was still sitting up, leaning against the couch with one arm draped over his eyes. From what Akaashi could see, his face was still red.</p><p>“Do you want coffee?” He asked, approaching the blanket nest with a raised eyebrow. Kuroo jumped a bit in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes. When he didn’t immediately respond, Akaashi spoke again, “I don’t have an espresso machine, so I can’t make a latte, but..” he trailed off, waiting for a response.</p><p>“O-Oh, yeah. Sure, coffee. That’d be great,” He let out a forced laugh. Akaashi furrowed his eyebrows a bit, but nodded, making his way towards the kitchen. He expected Kuroo to stay in the living room, but as he clicked the button to start brewing, he heard soft footsteps following after him.</p><p>“Look, I’m <em> really </em>sorry about… that. Seriously, I totally blanked and didn’t realize it was you,” Kuroo let out a nervous laugh, and when Akaashi glanced over his shoulder, he saw him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He tried to ignore the pit of disappointment that settled into his stomach at Kuroo’s words, simply nodding.</p><p>
  <em> He has a boyfriend, dipshit. Why are you so disappointed? </em>
</p><p>He ignored the thought, worried about it’s implications.</p><p>“It’s okay, Kuroo-san. I understand, don’t worry,” He offered him a small smile, before turning back to the cupboard in search of mugs. He pulled out four, setting them in a line on the counter.</p><p>“Okay,” He breathed out a sigh of relief. Akaashi hummed softly to himself as he dug through his cupboards in search of hot chocolate mix; he knew Bokuto didn’t like coffee, and he was almost sure he had bought some on his last grocery run. He refused to admit that his neighbour had been the motivation, despite the fact that he hadn’t once in his life actively sought out the drink. His lips pulled up into a small smile as he found the canister, flicking on the kettle just as the coffee finished brewing.</p><p>“I’ll take-” Kuroo started, but Akaashi interrupted him as he opened the fridge.</p><p>“Four cream and extra caramel, right?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling out the carton and the bottle of caramel flavouring from his fridge. <em> That </em>he already had before meeting his neighbours, at least; he wasn’t a fan of sweets, but he didn’t mind the occasional flavoured coffee.</p><p>“Yeah,” Kuroo raised his eyebrows, seeming surprised that Akaashi knew off the top of his head, “Can you read my mind or something?” He joked, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he rested his elbows on the countertop. Akaashi pushed back the heat he felt rushing to his face, keeping his back turned to Kuroo as he poured out three mugs of coffee.</p><p>“You mentioned it when we went to the coffee shop. You said it was what you got whenever their latte machine wasn’t working,” He answered, voice soft.</p><p>“Did I?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow as Akaashi set his mug down in front of him, “Thanks.”</p><p>“No problem,” Akaashi responded, stirring some sugar and milk into Kenma’s coffee before scooping a few spoonfuls of hot chocolate into the still-empty mug for Bokuto.</p><p>“I’m surprised you remembered that. I like, mentioned it in passing,” Kuroo snorted softly as he took a sip of his drink, letting out a sigh, “Perfect.”</p><p>“How could I forget such a disgusting order?” Akaashi joked, glancing over his shoulder with a small smile. Kuroo just scoffed, flipping him off as he took another sip of his drink.</p><p>“Oh shut up. You remembered Kenma’s too, and that Bokuto hates coffee.” He pointed out, a small smirk on his face.</p><p>“Or I’m just guessing,” He retorted, despite knowing that Kuroo was right. Without realizing it, he’d mentally catalogued a lot of tiny things about the three men. Things that would seem insignificant to others, but for some reason Akaashi refused to forget. </p><p>“We both know you’re not,” Kuroo retorted. Akaashi simply responded with a shrug, reaching for the kettle once he heard it click off. He didn’t want to focus on the implication behind Kuroo’s words; there likely was none, he convinced himself. He was reading too much into things, nothing out of the ordinary for him.</p><p>“Do you want to go wake them up? I can cook breakfast,” He commented, stirring a small spoonful of caramel into his own cup of coffee before he put away the cream and hot chocolate mix.</p><p>“Sure,” Kuroo rose from his seat, stepping out of the kitchen as Akaashi set down the last two mugs. He let out a soft sigh, leaning against the stove as he sipped at his own drink. A couple minutes later Bokuto bounded into the kitchen, followed closely by Kuroo.</p><p>“Mornin!” He grinned, giving Akaashi a wave as he sat down in one of the free stools.</p><p>“How the hell you don’t get hangovers is a mystery to me,” Akaashi shook his head a bit, a small smile on his face, “But goodmorning, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“I’m just lucky, I guess,” He grinned proudly, “Oh! Hell yeah, hot chocolate! Do you have any marshmallows?”<br/>“I don’t, I’m sorry,” Akaashi chuckled softly, and Bokuto just waved off his apology, taking a sip. He opened his mouth to ask where Kenma was, but before he got the chance, the man in question shuffled into the kitchen, his hood pulled up over his head as he silently sat himself down on the last empty stool.</p><p>“Aww, are you hungover?” Kuroo teased, arching an eyebrow, but he immediately shut up when Kenma shot him a death glare. Akaashi almost felt bad for having to fight off a smile.</p><p>“Do you want some medicine?” Akaashi offered, pulling a bottle of headache pills from his pocket. He’d already taken some, and combined with the shock of the <em> incident </em>when he had woken up, his headache had faded significantly.</p><p>“You’re a saint,” Kenma breathed out, holding out a hand. Akaashi just smiled, handing him the bottle.</p><p>“Oi, why didn’t you offer those to me?” Kuroo pouted, snatching the bottle off the counter once Kenma set it down.</p><p>“You didn’t seem to need them,” Akaashi simply shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee.</p><p>“I may not be puking my guts out, but my fuckin’ head still kills,” Kuroo grumbled, downing two of the pills with his coffee before throwing the bottle at Akaashi. He reached up and caught it, shooting Kuroo a deadpan look as he set it in his medicine cupboard.</p><p>“You deserve it,” Bokuto joked, grinning a bit at his boyfriend’s suffering, “You’re the one who wanted to buy all that alcohol.”</p><p>“You did too!” Kuroo retorted, immediately cringing at the volume of his own voice, “Stop bullying me, it’s too early,” He whined, pouting as he rested his chin in his palm.</p><p>“It’s never too early to bully you, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi retorted, a small smirk pulling at his lips.</p><p>“God, why can’t you be drunk all the time? You’re way nicer,” He grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare.</p><p>“Careful, or I’ll kick you out of the apartment and leave you to the mutant spider,” Keiji threatened, arching an eyebrow as Kuroo paled.</p><p>“Please don’t.”</p><p>Akaashi just shot him a smug look, setting his mug down on the counter, “I’ll make breakfast, do either of you have any requests?” He looked at Bokuto and Kenma in particular.</p><p>“Do I not get to make a request?” Kuroo pouted.</p><p>“Assholes who insult me don’t get a say,” He retorted, “Be nicer, and maybe I’ll consider it.”</p><p>“You’re just as much of an ass!” Kuroo shook his head a bit, fighting to keep his pout on his face.</p><p>“Oh! How about omurice?” Bokuto suggested, ignoring his boyfriend's feigned offence.</p><p>“Is that alright with you?” He looked over to Kenma, raising an eyebrow. The man was hunched over the counter, tapping away at his phone as he drank his coffee. He just gave a hum of approval, not looking up. Akaashi nodded a bit, making his way to the fridge in search of eggs and chicken.</p><p>The kitchen was surprisingly quiet as he cooked; it wasn’t completely silent, with Bokuto and Kuroo engrossed in a quiet conversation and the sounds of Kenma’s game, but it was a lot calmer than normal. He kept his eyes on the pan as he cooked, fighting to keep a smile off his face as he hummed softly to himself.</p><p>The scene almost seemed domestic, in a weird way. He wasn’t used to having other people in the kitchen when he cooked, but he couldn’t say he disliked the company. As he waited for the rice to cook, he dug through his cupboards to fill Chieko’s food bowl; she was likely still asleep in Akaashi’s room, where she’d settled herself after getting her fill of attention from his neighbours, but he knew she’d be at his feet the moment she was awake if her bowl wasn’t prepared.</p><p>“What’re you humming?” Bokuto spoke up as Akaashi tossed the can in the recycling. He raised an eyebrow, looking towards the kitchen island. He didn’t think he’d been humming loud enough to be heard over Bokuto and Kuroo’s whispered conversation, but apparently he’d been wrong.</p><p>“Pachelbel’s Canon in D major,” He answered, pulling four plates out of the cupboard.<br/>“Of course you like classical music too,” Kuroo scoffed, shaking his head, “Nerd.”</p><p>“Says the one who owns chemistry-themed clothing,” Akaashi deadpanned.</p><p>“Chemistry is cool,” Kuroo crossed his arms.</p><p>“Is it though?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow, laughing as he was elbowed in the side.</p><p>“Kuro, your music taste is all over the place. You’re not anyone to talk,” Kenma finally spoke up, setting his phone aside.</p><p>“Yeah, but still! Classical music is gross,” Kuroo retorted.</p><p>“I don’t <em> just </em>listen to classical. I just particularly like that song,” Akaashi rolled his eyes as he turned his back on his neighbours, focusing his attention back on the stovetop.</p><p>“Oh really? What else do you listen to, then?” </p><p>“Y’know you could just ask him what music he likes without antagonizing him, right?” Bokuto whisper-yelled, letting out a yelp as Kuroo attempted to shove him off his stool.</p><p>“Do you mean genres, or artists in particular?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face as he transferred the first omelet onto a plate, turning to set it down in front of Kenma.</p><p>“Thanks,” Kenma shot him a barely-noticeable smile as he reached for his spoon, slipping his phone in his pocket.</p><p>“Genres,” Kuroo answered, pouting as Kenma got the first plate.</p><p>“I’ll listen to almost any genre, but I tend to like more alternative styles. Indie, riot grrl, electronica, punk rock, pop punk… I also tend to drift towards english bands for some reason, but I enjoy a lot of japanese artists as well,” He listed off the genres he could think of off the top of his head. When he turned around to set the second plate down on the table, he saw Kuroo punching the air.</p><p>“Yes! I’ll have a second vote when we argue about who gets the aux,” He stuck his tongue out at Bokuto childishly, and Akaashi simply raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Your taste is pretty similar to Kuroo’s. Bokuto prefers jpop and american country music, and I don’t particularly care, so they always argue over who gets to play music,” Kenma explained as he took a bite of his omelet. He nodded a little in understanding, vaguely wondering when he had begun counting towards his neighbours votes on things. He also couldn’t help but wonder if Kuroo truly believed he’d be travelling with them enough to have that much of a say in the music. Akaashi dug his teeth into the inside of his cheek to fight off a smile, refusing to admit just how much he enjoyed the idea.</p><p>“Country?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, “Do you mean normal country or the ‘drink beer, cheat on my wife, and talk about trucks like you wanna have sex with them’ country?” He questioned, looking at Bokuto.</p><p>“Normal country!” Bokuto spoke around a mouthful of food, “This is really good!”</p><p>“Thank you, but please stop speaking with your mouth full,” Akaashi shook his head a bit, turning around to finish up Kuroo’s omelet.</p><p>“I feel like you left mine for last on purpose,” Kuroo joked, shaking his head when it was set down in front of him.</p><p>“I actually left mine for last,” Akaashi pointed out, turning back to the stove. He could practically hear Kuroo rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Alright, y’know what, if the bar doesn’t work out,” Kuroo spoke up a minute later, “I’ll hire you as a personal chef.”</p><p>“I second that!” was what Akaashi <em> assumed </em>Bokuto was trying to say. He didn’t even bother berating him for talking with his mouth full at this point.</p><p>Akaashi snorted softly as he set down his own plate, turning off the stove and grabbing himself a spoon, “My rate is 10000 yen per meal then.”</p><p>“I’m broke!” Kuroo huffed, taking another bite of his omurice, “Can’t you give me a ‘best friend in the world’ discount?”</p><p>Akaashi just stared at him in silence, taking a bite of his own omelete, “For you?” He raised an eyebrow, seeming to consider it, fighting off a smile as he saw Kuroo perk up, “15000 yen.” His lips pulled up into a small grin when Kuroo groaned, shaking his head.</p><p>“You suck.”</p><hr/><p>By the time the three men were willing to venture back into their apartment, the sun had set. It had taken Yuka-san’s text telling them the spider had left, as well as Kenma doing a thorough search around the apartment to get Bokuto and Kuroo to finally leave. They hadn’t done much that day, not that Akaashi minded; they’d watched a couple more movies, Akaashi had spent an hour staring at his computer screen trying to write before he gave up, and they’d ordered some pizza whose box was now sitting on the couch, empty.</p><p> Akaashi fought the urge to smile as he looked up from the sink full of dishes, seeing the blanket nest still (semi) intact on his living room floor. He’d have to clean that up at some point, but it could always wait until tomorrow. As soon as he was finished cleaning, he was going to sit himself in front of his computer and write his final chapter. He didn’t care how long it took for inspiration to strike, he was finishing his book or he was going to die trying.</p><p>First, though, he needed to brush his teeth and use the washroom. He really didn’t want to fall asleep without brushing his teeth again, especially if he was going to hole up with his laptop until his book was finished. He filled up Chieko’s food bowl, wiping his wet hands on his own sweatpants as he walked to his bathroom.</p><p>His thoughts were completely consumed by how exactly he was going to go about writing his final scene, how exactly he was going to wrap up over a years worth of work in a way he found satisfactory; that was, until he leaned down to rinse out his mouth, coming back up with his hands on the edge of the counter. Without his consent, his mind completely wiped away all thoughts of the book; instead, he stared at his own reflection, momentarily finding himself launched back to that morning.</p><p>Akaashi raised a hand to his neck without realizing it, teeth digging into his cheek as he tried to ignore the shiver trailing down his back. If he focused hard enough, he could still feel the ghost of lips against his neck. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the feeling of being swaddled in warmth, the feeling of hands clutching at his sweater and arms resting heavy on his waist.</p><p>He immediately jerked his hand away from his neck, eyes shooting open. In his violent attempt to shake off the feeling, his hand hit the counter top, drawing a string of curses from his mouth and effectively jerking him out of his haze.</p><p>
  <em> Not now. Later. </em>
</p><p>He had a book to write, he had things to do. Later, later, later… When it came to his life, it seemed Akaashi was using that word a lot recently. He would think about his mother later. He would finish his book later. He would talk about his feelings later. He would sort out his muddled emotions about his neighbours later. Over and over again, he pushed discomfort and difficulty off, leaving it for the future.</p><p>He realized eventually, ‘later’ would cease to come. Eventually there would be no later, and he would be forced to address the storm of thoughts and feelings that seemed to be as constant as his neighbours in his life. He pushed the thought away as he settled himself on his bed, pulling his computer into his lap. Akaashi had more important things to focus on right now, he had more pressing matters than his own emotions. His entire future was riding on this fucking book, he’d risked so much; his parents, his reputation, his <em> life </em>as he knew it.</p><p>So why didn’t his brain understand that? Why did it suddenly go blank when he pulled up his word document, leaving his eyes staring at the screen without processing a thing?</p><p>
  <em> One word at a time…. One word at a time…. </em>
</p><p>Eventually, the words started to come. It was slow, almost tortuous, and on more than one occasion Akaashi felt the urge to throw his laptop at the wall. But by the time Chieko had finished her food and curled up at his feet, whatever lingering thoughts that had been blocking his inspiration had begun to dissipate.</p><p>It took much longer than it should have; every so often, he’d jam at the backspace button as he realized that he had lost his focus and accidentally typed out his own thoughts instead of an actual part of his book. But as he’d promised himself, he didn’t move from his spot. Even when he felt a dull ache settling in his neck, or when his fingers started to cramp, he refused to stop; it had taken him too long to regain his inspiration, and he wasn’t letting it go so easily.</p><p>Finally, his fingers stopped moving. He stopped breathing altogether, hands hovering over the keyboard as he stared at the document. It took a moment for Akaashi’s brain to register why he had stopped typing, but when he did, he let out a relieved sigh. Leaning his head back against the headboard, Akaashi let out a laugh, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>He wasn’t finished, not really. He still had to edit, and then edit again. He had to find a publisher, he had to find a way to get his work out to the public. Then he’d have to worry about sales, and writing another book, and building himself a career out of nothing. But for now, he could relish in the feeling of accomplishment. He could stare at his ceiling with a wide grin, knowing that he was one step closer to his dream than he had been a few hours ago.</p><p>For once, Akaashi could let himself be proud of what he’d done. As he set his laptop on his nightstand, he caught sight of the time as his phone lit up with a text. It was nearly midnight; he’d been at it much longer than he’d thought. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he saw a text, and he forced his aching fingers to swipe across the screen.</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b> <b> <em>(11:57pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> yo kaashi we can hear u laughing from our apartment??? </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b> <b> <em>(11:57pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> did we finally drive u crazy or what????? </em>
</p><p>He bit back a laugh as he read the texts, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t realize he had been being so loud, but he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t even care that it was late, and he was exhausted; he felt almost giddy, forcing his fingers to type out a response.</p><p><b>From : Me </b> <b> <em>(11:58pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> I’m alright I promise. </em>
</p><p><b>From : Me </b> <b> <em>(11:58pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> I just finished my book. I think I need some rest. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০)</b> <b> <em> (11:58pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> HOLY SHIT REALLY???? </em>
</p><p><b>From: Me </b> <b> <em>(11:59pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> Yes. Well, the first draft. It’s not done yet. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫ </b> <b> <em>(11:59pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> WHO GIVES A SHIT??? THATS STILL HUGE, UR ONE STEP CLOSER TO BEING A FAMOUS WRITER </em>
</p><p><b>From: Me </b> <b> <em>(11:59pm)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> There’s no guarantee I’d be a famous writer. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫</b> <b> <em> (12:00am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> nah ur gonna. i got a feeling. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Me </b> <b> <em>(12:00am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> Ah yes, I forgot. You’re psychic. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kenma (Φ ᆺ Φ) </b> <b> <em>(12:01am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> quit trying to downplay this, Keiji. u’ve been working hard on this, and it’s a huge deal. even if its not quite the end. congratulations. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Bokuto-san (০▿০) </b> <b> <em>(12:01am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> U GOTTA LET ME READ IT </em>
</p><p><b>From: Me </b> <b> <em>(12:01am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> Thank you, Kenma. I appreciate it. And I’ll send it to you tomorrow, Bokuto-san. For now, I think I need some sleep. </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫</b> <b> <em> (12:02am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> DUH. Ur up WAY TOO LATE MISTER </em>
</p><p><b>From: Me </b> <b> <em>(12:02am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> You do realize you’re also awake, right? </em>
</p><p><b>From: Kuroo-san (ﾐΦ ﻌ Φﾐ)∫</b> <b> <em> (12:03am)</em> </b></p><p>
  <em> not important!!!!!!!!! </em>
</p><p>Akaashi bit back a laugh, shaking his head a little as he plugged in his phone and set it down on the nightstand again. He tossed his glasses alongside it, collapsing back onto the mattress with a soft sigh. He didn’t even have the time to think about how cold his bed seemed compared to how he’d woken up that morning; within seconds, he was out like a light, fully prepared to stay in his apartment until life deemed it absolutely necessary for him to leave.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>sorry about the (rlly) late update, i've been preoccupied with sorting out my dorm and getting used to a new city!! classes started today and im basically all settled in, its weird being away from home but i really like it. either way, i hope u guys enjoyed this chapter!! it was more so of a filler (cause like i said i am literally coming up with this shit as i go so im sorry if it seems like its dragging on or anything but i still rlly hope u guys are liking it) but either way i liked writing it</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are always appreciated, ily all!! &lt;3</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr!!! @kuidore!!!!!**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Life decided to drag him out of his apartment much sooner than Akaashi would’ve liked. Wednesday came faster than he expected it to, and as much as he would have loved to simply stay in his home and continue to relax, he didn’t think it would look too good if he skipped out on his first shift at the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still needed some form of income after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He managed to drag himself out of bed just after four, shuffling towards his bathroom in search of a shower. He just knew his hair was a greasy mess, and that he’d need a good hour to be decent enough to actually go back out into the real world. He really wasn’t keen on making a bad impression on his first day on the job. The water was ice cold when he stepped beneath the stream, and he forced himself to stay inside until it began to warm up. At least it woke him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped out of the shower in just a towel almost a half hour later, stepping into the kitchen to refill Chieko’s water bowl before he began to rummage through his closet. Somehow he managed to find an unwrinkled dress shirt in among the mess of clothing, setting it out on his unmade bed alongside a pair of black dress pants. Kuroo had assured him that a dress shirt and decent pants would fit the bar’s employee dress code, and Akaashi was just hoping that his clothes were decent enough. However, after hearing the story of why the bar had an employee dress code in the first place (three words; Nishinoya, Tanaka, and cheetah print shorts) he figured he would be more than fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't bother doing much more than running a brush through his hair and putting in his contact lenses, glancing at his bed with a soft huff. Even with his three full days of staying home, doing nothing more than watching netflix and occasionally texting his neighbours, he still felt exhausted somehow. Maybe it was just the fact that the past week had been ridiculously stressful; he was sure he’d be fine once he actually got used to being a person again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And through everything, despite his relaxation, his mind had been constantly running at a million miles an hour. Akaashi wasn’t sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>. By all means, with his first draft finished, he expected his brain to shut down. Instead it seemed to have gone into overdrive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The events of Friday night and Saturday morning were most prominent in his mind. The moment his apartment doors had closed behind his neighbours, he’d felt a wave of embarrassment hit him like a truck. His relationship with his parents wasn’t anyone else’s business. At least, that was how he’d always looked at it. But alcohol had loosened his tongue, and he’d told them as much as he could without going over his entire fucking life story. Despite his worries, they hadn’t abandoned him; if anything, they seemed to be… worried. Kenma had texted him a couple times between their rounds of imessage games to ask if he was okay, or if his mother had tried calling him. Bokuto had facetimed him at least five times on Sunday, for the most random things; he went on for almost an hour about how much he’d liked the first chapter of Akaashi’s book. Kuroo had even texted him yesterday morning to tell him there was a coffee outside his door, and that he better grab it before someone else stole it. Black, two shots of espresso, and with the word ‘abomination’ written on the side in handwriting that bordered on chicken scratch. Keiji had hesitated a moment when he’d gone to throw the cup away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From anyone else, Akaashi might’ve felt pitied. But for some reason, he was sure that pity was the last thing on his neighbours minds. Obviously they wanted to give him some space to relax, but he had a feeling they were worried he would get too caught up in his thoughts and would start to stress himself out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been what happened, but the stress didn’t come from his mother or his book. It had been eclipsed by a much larger problem that Keiji still didn’t want to come to terms with, and it was all his damn neighbours fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a sigh as he looked at himself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, spraying himself with cologne and brushing his hair once again for good measure. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek for a moment, feeling the damaged skin as a result of him chewing on it for what seemed like hours. He stared at himself in the mirror for what felt like an eternity, lost in thought as his reflection seemed to look back with judgement in it’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d done his best to distract himself, reading and watching netflix shows and asking Bokuto what he thought of the first draft he’d sent him. Akaashi kept himself as ‘busy’ as he could while staying within the silent atmosphere of his apartment, all in the hopes of keeping his annoyingly loud thoughts at bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t worked much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had only been three days; why did he feel the ache of being alone already? He </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked </span>
  </em>
  <span>being alone, he always had. In University, he’d shut himself in his bedroom and lock the door whenever he needed to study, because he preferred the stillness of his bedroom to the crowded campus library. He’d specifically requested a single-person dorm as soon as possible so he could have some semblance of peace and time to himself. As a child he had been more than content to wander through the woods, finding a spot so secluded that not even those hiking the trails would catch sight of him. Over and over again, through the course of his life, Akaashi actively chose to be alone. It was easier, and to him it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, he found himself missing someone. Missing </span>
  <em>
    <span>multiple</span>
  </em>
  <span> someones, more intensely that he could describe - not that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to perceive his own feelings. He’d found himself checking every notification with a racing heart, lips pulling up into a small smile whenever he saw a certain set of contact names pop onto the screen. Whenever he’d left his bedroom, he found himself lingering just a minute too long outside the door, waiting for the telltale knock and yell of his name that indicated he was going to have to leave his apartment. He’d woken up on more than one morning feeling abnormally cold despite being swaddled in blankets, staring at the wall as if willing the phantom weight that had settled on his waist during the night not to disappear as he was forced out of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at himself in the mirror, tasting metal in his mouth as his teeth worked away at the damaged skin of his inner cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t like them. They’re nothing more than friends.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought itself almost felt like some sort of confession. As if the need for him to explicitly state the words in his own mind was an indication of why he suddenly felt like his apartment was much too empty and much too quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like them.” He repeated, aloud this time. His reflection stared back at him, it’s stupidly calm facade almost seeming to mock him. As if it was challenging him to be more convincing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great. I’m talking to my own reflection…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe spending so much time around his neighbours was really starting to drive him insane. It seemed like a much more logical explanation than the one his brain was obviously trying to force on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a knock on his front door pulled Akaashi out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a moment,” He called, taking one last look at his reflection before he flicked off the light. He wasn’t sure who it was or what they wanted, but he could only hope it would be quick. It was already quarter after five, and he knew he’d need at least an extra five minutes to figure out the route to the bar. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the road on the day of his interview. Akaashi arched an eyebrow as he opened the door, Kuroo’s stupidly smug grin there to greet him on the other side, “Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi had to consciously fight off the blush that threatened to flood his face as the memories of Saturday morning’s incident were pulled to the forefront of his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who pissed in your cheerios?” Kuroo scoffed, arching an eyebrow, “Is that any way to greet your best friend, whom you’ve been ignoring for three days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last I checked, I classified Kenma as my best friend,” Akaashi deadpanned, resisting the smile that threatened to pull at his lips, “And I haven’t been ignoring any of you, Kuroo-san, you know that. I’ve been resting. As you and your motherly tendencies constantly bitch at me to do. Now what is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why Kenma? That’s rude,” Kuroo whined, putting a hand over his heart only to immediately raise it when Akaashi opened his mouth to answer, “Nope, shut up. I don’t need you wounding me any more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone has to knock your ego down a few pegs, Kuroo-san. I’m doing this for the good of society.” Akaashi deadpanned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you get meaner or something?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes at him, shaking his head, “And to think, I was going to offer you a ride to work…” He sighed dramatically, swinging his lanyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By your wording, I’m assuming you’re no longer offering the ride?” Akaashi retorted, glancing at the time on his stove.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm..” Kuroo seemed to think it over, crossing his arms, “Maybe I will, if you’re nice to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was silent for a moment, feigning consideration of the idea, “Not worth it.” He resisted the urge to laugh as he shut the door in Kuroo’s face, turning around and biting his lip as he heard an offended (and slightly muffled) squawk from the other side of the wood</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-Oi!” Kuroo called out, knocking on the door again, “Don’t close the door in my face, asshole!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t even bother to hide his eye roll (or his smile) as he opened the door again, “Let me guess; the withdrawal of the drive to work offer was entirely a bluff, and you plan to drive me whether I’m nice or not.” Judging by Kuroo’s huff, he was right. Akaashi had to bite back a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo narrowed his eyes, shaking his head, “Perceptive bastard,” He scoffed, seemingly torn between annoyance and amusement, “Alright, fine. I figured it’d be easier since we work the same shift tonight, and it saves you having to deal with traffic. Plus, my car is better than yours, and also probably cheaper on gas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve never even seen my car,” Akaashi pointed out, refusing to admit that Kuroo was definitely right. His car was shit on gas, and the old fuck looked about ready to fall apart at any moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, whatever. Get your shit, we’ll go in early so I can show you all the punch in stuff,” Kuroo waved him off. Keiji didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly grabbed his coat and his keys, slipping his feet into the only semi-decent pair of black shoes he owned before he moved to follow Kuroo out of the apartment complex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How busy is it normally?” Akaashi asked as they climbed into the car. He hadn’t really thought to ask Kuroo much about the job, and the fact that he was essentially walking into the unknown didn’t help his nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only wednesday, so it’ll probably just be the regulars,” Kuroo answered as the car rumbled to life, “It’s not a hard job, you’ll get the hang of it quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about weekends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s nose scrunched up a bit, “It depends. Normally it’s busy, but you can get some real shitheads coming in sometimes. But the bouncers’ll take care of any shitty drunk University students. All you gotta worry about is making drinks and doing your chores,” He assured, eyes on the road. Akaashi just nodded silently, thankful his first shift was on a weekday. They got to the bar in decent time; Akaashi did his best to focus on the route, knowing that he wouldn’t have Kuroo to drive him to every one of his shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll head in the back, I’ll show you where the punch in stuff is and you can toss your bag in the lockers.” Kuroo explained as they stepped out of the car, “Aside from making drinks, you’ll have a couple clean-up jobs to do. Replacing empty bottles on the back wall, washing down the bar, garbages.. Stuff like that. We’re not working close tonight, but I’m sure Ukai’ll have you do one within the week, so that’s a whole other set of shit I won’t bother explaining now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, thank you.” Akaashi nodded. He mentally catalogued all the information Kuroo gave him as he showed him around the back rooms, taking a photo of the schedule when they got into the office. He’d been right about Ukai giving him a closer - and on Saturday, no less. The thought of having to usher a bunch of drunk students out of the bar at close made him a little anxious, but he was sure he could handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in the break room once Kuroo had finished showing him what he had to do; most of it seemed easy enough. Akaashi knew how to mix drinks, even if he’d never bartended before, and Kuroo had assured him he’d do his best to help if he got overwhelmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Secretly, Akaashi was thankful he had a familiar face around. Not that he’d ever express it for fear of inflating Kuroo’s ego, but it made his first shift a lot less nerve wracking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time six o’clock rolled around, Keiji’s nerves had returned. Mental preparedness didn’t really help him too much once he stepped behind the bar, and even the slaps on the back from Tanaka and Nishinoya as they all walked out to relieve the working bartenders didn’t dissipate his anxieties. His old jobs hadn’t forced him to deal too much with customers; he’d stocked shelves in his hometown grocery store, catalogued books in his University library. And his experience at bars in the past certainly hadn’t involved analyzing the behaviour of the workers in search of pointers; at most, he’d flirted for free drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t start panicking now,” Kuroo snorted, elbowing him in the side as they settled themselves behind the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not panicking.” Akaashi deadpanned, throwing in an eyeroll for good measure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, Kaashi.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span> The bar was almost empty for a good majority of the night just as Kuroo had predicted. A group of older women came in not long after six, laughing amongst themselves in one of the booths. A pair of businessmen spent hours by the dart board, shooting back glasses of whiskey as if they had something they needed to forget.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For most of his shift, Keiji wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to do. He went through the handwritten checklist of cleaning chores about four times over, wiped down his section of the counter till he could practically see his reflection, watched in a mixture of worry and amusement as Nishinoya and Tanaka spent almost half an hour precariously balancing a tower of wine glasses. It was uneventful, to say the least, and the shift seemed to drag on forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Midnight didn’t come fast enough, and Akaashi let out a soft sigh as he pulled his things out of his ‘assigned’ locker in the back room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? How’d you like your first shift?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, pulling on his coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a lot more boring than I expected,” Keiji admitted, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He resisted the urge to smile as Kuroo let out a bark of a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just wait ‘till Saturday. You’ll be wishing it was this boring,” He assured, “But you did well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be pretty disappointed in myself if I didn’t ‘do well’ at wiping the counter for hours,” He deadpanned, following Kuroo out the back door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut it, you know what I meant,” Kuroo snorted, climbing into the drivers seat of the car. Akaashi slipped into the passenger’s side with a slight smile, “Mind if I make a stop on the way back? I gotta drop off some stuff at Suga and Daichi’s for Friday. If we kept it in the apartment, Kou’s nosy ass’d find it in a heartbeat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji raised an eyebrow. The way Kuroo said it, it seemed as if there was something occurring on Friday that Akaashi should know about. Rifling through his memory, nothing came to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t mind. What’s Friday, though?” Akaashi questioned, doing up his seatbelt. The engine rumbled to life, much-appreciated hot air flowing from the vents.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kou’s birthday party? Jeez, I thought you were supposed to have a good memory or something. Did all that writing fry your brain?” Kuroo snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friday is Bokuto-san’s birthday?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, rifling through his memory in search of a single mention of any party. He couldn’t even remember the three telling him when their birthdays were, let alone about any parties or plans. Kuroo was silent for a moment, and Akaashi sensed the other man’s eyes on him as he sifted through the mental catalogue of information his mind had been (against his own will) keeping about his neighbours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Did none of us tell you about that?” Kuroo let out a mixture between a huff and a laugh, “Shit. Yeah, Friday is Kou’s birthday. We’re throwing him a surprise party, it’s at Suga and Daichi’s so the dumbass doesn’t get suspicious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akaashi nodded a bit, “Let me guess; you assumed Kenma would tell me, and Kenma assumed you would tell me?” He commented, resisting the urge to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s about right,” Kuroo snickered a bit, “I guess we forget sometimes that you’re sorta new, that there’s stuff about us that we have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.” He admitted, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck as he pulled out onto the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi felt an odd flutter in his chest at Kuroo’s words; he wasn’t sure why, they were fairly innocuous. But the idea that the three felt so close to him that they forgot the fact that they’d only really known each other for a little over two and a half weeks made his lips want to curve into a smile.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“I understand what you mean. I have the same problem with the three of you,” Keiji admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, I’m sorry. You don’t have plans or anything Friday, right?” Kuroo questioned, “Bo wouldn’t be offended or anything if you did… but I know he’d want you to be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem to forget that you three are still my only friends in the city, Kuroo-san. Who would I possibly have plans with?” Akaashi deadpanned, glancing at the bedheaded man’s side profile from the corner of his eye. He watched Kuroo scoff a bit, opening his mouth to make some sort of comment, but Akaashi cut him off, “No, I don’t have plans. I’ll be there.” He refused to admit that the idea that Bokuto would even notice if he didn’t show up made him smile slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” His’s lips quirked up into a small smile, and Keiji fixed his gaze back on the road when Kuroo glanced towards the passenger’s seat, “I’ll ask Suga if he can bring you to their place around five tomorrow when he gets off work, if that works for you? Kou thinks that he, Kenma, and I are just going to dinner to celebrate, everyone’s gonna head to Daichi and Suga’s a little early to setup and stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five works for me.” Akaashi nodded, “Are you sure it’s alright, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s head turned towards the passenger’s seat as he slowed to a stop in front of a red light, “What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji let out a soft sigh, “I mean, the entire reason I’m… invited is because of the three of you. I don’t exactly know anyone else. Is it alright for me to… just show up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo was silent for a moment, his gaze fixing back on the road as the light turned red, “For someone who seems so self-assured, you’re insecure as shit.” He commented, an amused tone lacing his words. Akaashi shot him a half-hearted glare. “It’s more than alright, Kaashi. That group of dumbasses are as much your friends now as they are ours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s accurate,” Akaashi commented, “I barely know them-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who cares? No one’s gonna think you’re intruding. They accepted you the second you walked into our apartment. Those guys may seem like a bunch of idiots, but they’re picky about the people they spend their time with. So are we.” Kuroo’s tone was a little more firm, less teasing, “They like you, we like you, so quit trying to distance yourself, alright? You’re stuck with us, now you gotta live with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi was silent for a moment, watching the streetlights pass as Kuroo’s words flitted through his mind. He didn’t think he was being insecure; he was being rational, if anything. What sort of people just accepted someone new immediately? If they were truly as picky as Kuroo claimed, there was no reason for them to see him - a newcomer - as a part of their group. But there was something in the man’s tone that didn’t give much room for argument. Kuroo wasn’t trying to convince him of anything; he talked as if he was simply stating facts. Keiji found it a little hard to wrap his head around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” He nodded slightly, still keeping his eyes trained on the road.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Kuroo let out a heavy sigh as he quietly shut the door to their apartment, slipping off his shoes. He hadn’t checked the time since he and Akaashi had left Suga and Daichi’s place, but he figured it was maybe a little before three. The couple’s house was pretty far out of the inner city, forcing Kuroo to take the longest possible route back to the complex, and the ‘quick stop’ had turned into an almost hour and a half long conversation over about a dozen cups of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome home,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quiet voice nearly made Kuroo jump out of his own skin, and he felt himself stuck between a laugh and a groan as he glanced to the couch to see Kenma curled up in one of Bokuto’s hoodies, his nose buried in his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why am I not surprised you’re still awake?” He arched an eyebrow, hanging up his coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be a little concerned if you were.” He retorted, glancing away from the screen. Kuroo chuckled softly, leaning over the back of the couch to press a kiss to his temple, “Koutarou’s asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured,” Kuroo leaned his elbows on the back of the couch, “Did you ever mention Kou’s birthday to Akaashi?” He questioned, keeping his voice quiet in case the man in question decided to suddenly wake up. It was difficult enough to keep surprises a secret in their house, and Kuroo definitely didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I figured you had told him… he does know about it, right?” Kenma raised an eyebrow, tipping his head back to look up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now he does,” Kuroo chuckled. Kenma rolled his eyes a bit, “Oi, you’re the one whose constantly playing imessage games with the guy. I figured you would’ve mentioned it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is able to come though, right? It’s pretty short notice to tell him about it only a day before..” Kenma chewed on the inside of his cheek, slipping his phone into the pocket of the oversized hoodie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s coming. It’s a good thing I forgot to drop off the last of the decorations at Suga and Daichi’s, or we wouldn’t’ve realized until the party.” He chuckled softly, standing up straight and walking towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… Bo would’ve been disappointed if he didn’t come.” Kenma commented, sitting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You noticed it too, huh?” Kuroo muttered, more to himself than anything else. Kenma either didn’t hear him, or didn’t want to talk about the subject, because he didn’t respond. At least not to Kuroo’s comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of Akaashi… I think we should tell him,” When Kuroo glanced away from the fridge Kenma was standing in the doorway, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell him… about the three of us?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, grabbing a bottle of water and shutting the door to the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Kou and I were talking about it earlier.. I think I’m ready for him to know.” Kenma sighed softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure about this?” Kuroo asked, refusing to let the bubble of hope in his chest overtake him just yet, “It’s still really soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m sure. I’ve been thinking it over, and I think Koutarou was right. He wouldn’t judge us for something like this.” Kenma straightened up a bit, halting his fidgeting. Something in his eyes told Kuroo he wholeheartedly believed his own words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if he does?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, “Do you really think we’re prepared to deal with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think we have to be. It’s something we can deal with if we need to; we’ve done it before. But I don’t think we need to worry about that.” Kenma chewed on the inside of his cheek, “Besides… He trusted us with everything about his mother. Something really private, and painful for him. I think it’s only fair we show him that same sort of trust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re right… How should we do it, then?” Kuroo leaned against the counter, “Do we just… start showing PDA in front of him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we need to tell him outright. So there’s no confusion.” Kenma ran a hand through his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… He seems too polite to ask any questions, he’d probably just let it slide if he suddenly saw me and Bo treating you like a boyfriend.” Kuroo chuckled softly, “Alright, so we’ll tell him. Should we do it tomorrow? Or.. Later today, I guess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s best. We’ll be drinking at the party anyways, and you know how Bokuto gets when he’s drunk.. It’s better if he has some time to process it beforehand, and I don’t think dropping it on him on Kou’s birthday is a good idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All too well,” Kuroo snorted. Bokuto was a handsy person sober; drunk, it was useless trying to get him to lay off the PDA. “Yeah, it’d be a dick move to just drop it on him in front of everyone… Later today, then. We can ask him over for dinner or something, tell him then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma nodded a bit, stepping into the kitchen and pressing a kiss to Kuroo’s lips. He was more than happy to reciprocate, craning his neck slightly so Kenma didn’t have to stand on his tip-toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to shower. You should go to bed,” Kuroo murmured as they pulled away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t take too long, or there’ll be no room for you,” Kenma chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before he shuffled out of the kitchen. Kuroo watched him with a small smile, turning towards the bathroom when he heard the soft click of their bedroom door being shut.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heyyyyyy yall, surprise, i'm not dead....!</p><p>i have no real excuse except that university is hell and i have no time management skills. i never really had the time or inspiration to write the past couple months, but as of now i'm finally off for winter break!! so i hope y'all are still interested in this story, cause I'm hoping to get some chapters out before i head back (and hopefully manage my time better and keep writing through second semester)</p><p>I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, as always, comments &amp; kudos are appreciated! I know i don't really respond to comments much, but just know i do read them all and ily all so much, and i appreciate your guys' support!</p><p>*come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore!!!!*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a soft huff as he stepped into his bedroom, stripping off his work clothes and collapsing in his bed in just his boxers. He didn’t bother putting on pajamas, simply pulling his blankets over him and curling up in the warmth of his sheets. He felt Chieko’s weight settle by his feet as he switched off his lamp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t quite understand why he was so exhausted; the shift hadn’t been physically taxing, and he really hadn’t done much except meticulously clean the counters when he had finished with his other chores. And yet his limbs still felt unnecessarily heavy, and all he wanted was to drift into sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t what happened, though. After about five minutes of him looking at the back of his eyelids, willing his body to fall asleep, he cracked open his eyes and reached for his phone on his nightstand. His body was tired, sure, but his mind was going a mile a minute. He opened up the browser on his phone, squinting slightly at the bright light as he typed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Birthday present ideas</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d never actually had to buy presents for anyone before. Him and his sister had come to the mutual agreement that gift cards and a dinner together was more than enough for holidays and birthdays, and his parents hadn’t exactly set a good example for him when it came to gift giving; every birthday and christmas he would get nothing but books and academic resources from his extended family (because that was what his mother always told them he wanted) and his parents would say that his extra lessons throughout the year were enough that he shouldn’t expect gifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In short, he had absolutely no idea what to get Bokuto. He knew he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bring a gift, Kuroo had said he shouldn’t worry too much about it when Akaashi had mentioned going shopping as they pulled up to the apartment complex. But for some reason, he wanted to. He wanted to go out and get something, wanted to be able to hand it to Bokuto and know that he enjoyed whatever it was Keiji had bought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The articles online didn’t help much; they all suggested things like watches, or alcohol, or socks. Going through them, Akaashi just felt they were too…. Impersonal. And gifts were supposed to be personal, weren’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a huff he tossed his phone back on his nightstand, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He’d just go to the mall tomorrow, browse for a while. He didn’t have much extra money, so he would have to be careful about prices, but he’d just walk around and hope something caught his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that train of thought settled, Keiji expected to fall asleep fast. But the universe wasn’t that merciful; instead, his brain seemed intent on picking back up the train of thought that Kuroo’s sudden arrival earlier in the day had halted.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t like them.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His own words from almost ten hours ago echoed in his mind as he stared blankly at his ceiling. Why had he felt the need to say that? It was obvious that he didn’t like his neighbours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, of course he liked them. They were his best friends after all (though it felt odd assigning that strong a label to people he hadn’t even known for a full month). But he didn’t like them in a romantic way. He didn’t have feelings for them that extended beyond simply platonic.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There you go again… if it was really true, why would you need to clarify it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi let out a soft huff, bringing his hands up to rub at his face. Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> he feel the need to clarify his own thoughts? They were private, it wasn’t as if they were being broadcasted or typed out for the world to read and judge as they pleased. No one but him had access to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have feelings for his neighbours. It was stupid for his exhausted mind to even entertain the idea. Sure, he had missed them; so what? It was normal, people talked about missing their friends all the time. They had simply become such a routine part of his life that not seeing them suddenly was an odd change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, Akaashi didn’t even know what it was like to have romantic feelings for someone. Sure, he’d had quick flings, and he’d found people attractive, and he’d hooked up with plenty of people when his university workload became too much and he’d needed a reprieve. But he’d never thought of someone and wanted a relationship with them. He’d never had the urge to ask someone out on a date, or to accept one of the many confessions he’d received throughout his life. Akaashi Keiji just wasn’t cut out for relationships, it was a fact of his life that he’d accepted a long time ago. He was too blunt, for one; he never truly held his thoughts back, even if he was respectful when voicing them. He also got annoyed with people too easily; it would grate on his nerves, constantly having someone around, wanting his attention. He enjoyed being alone too much to sacrifice his moments of relaxation for a relationship that probably wouldn’t last anyways. He wasn’t an affectionate or touchy person, he didn’t really like leaving his own home too often, his first priority would always be himself and his own goals, and he wasn’t open about his feelings. He tended shut down when he was angry, and he was bad at communication too. The list went on. Akaashi Keiji was cold, and callous, and wasn’t sure if he could ever truly see himself being capable of putting a romantic relationship above all else. He just wasn’t cut out for romantic love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Akaashi was alright with that. He’d come to terms with that; he just wasn’t the type of person who found love. He wasn’t alone in that, there were plenty of people who never fell in love. The only difference was that he had no interest in forcing a marriage or relationship. He wasn’t terrified of never being in love. He was perfectly happy with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least, that’s what he told himself. But yet here he was; all it took was three days, alone in his apartment, and the ache of loneliness had settled in quicker than ever before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why he was spending so much time thinking about this, Akaashi didn’t know. He didn’t like his neighbours, that was that. End of story. He’d never even had romantic feelings for </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>person before, it was simply not feasible to think that he’d suddenly developed them for not one, but all </span>
  <em>
    <span>three </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his neighbours. Something like that wouldn’t work anyways; Keiji was more than aware of things like polyamourus relationships, but he had already resigned himself to the idea that he couldn’t handle a relationship with even </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a huff, Keiji turned to lay on his side, pulling his blanket up over his torso and curling up in it’s warmth. He was an idiot, and tired, and that was the only reason these absurd thoughts were popping into his head. Even if he did like them - which he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> - Bokuto and Kuroo were dating each other. Akaashi had no clue about Kenma’s relationship status, but if </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetically </span>
  </em>
  <span>did have feelings for all three of them, then dating only Kenma would do nothing to help his </span>
  <em>
    <span>hypothetical</span>
  </em>
  <span> crushes. If anything, it would only ruin their friendship and cause problems for all four of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It just wouldn’t be possible, even if I did like them.</span>
  </em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He woke up surprisingly early the next morning, despite the fact that it had probably been around four in the morning when he’d finally gotten some sleep. Akaashi forced himself out of bed before he could fall back asleep, Chieko at his heels as he shuffled out into his kitchen in search of coffee and some breakfast. The clock on his stove told him it was only about eight in the morning, and Akaashi had to resist the urge to forgo food altogether and simply collapse back in his bed. He’d screwed up his sleep schedule, spending almost three straight days in bed, and he really couldn’t afford to just lounge around. His book wasn’t going to edit itself, and he still had to go out to get a gift for Bokuto’s birthday. He should also try and do some laundry, as he was starting to run out of clothes that were decent enough for him to leave the house in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So with a sigh, Keiji reached to flick on his coffee maker, grabbing a slightly stale croissant from the almost-empty container on his kitchen counter. Groceries didn’t sound like a bad idea either, but that could wait another day or two. He still had instant noodles, and maybe enough real food for a proper meal or two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set Chieko’s food bowl down on the tile floor as the sound of his sputtering coffee machine stopped, leaving the kitchen in almost complete silence. He sighed as he pulled out the pot, his nose scrunching in distaste at the grinds he saw floating in the brown liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really need a new coffee maker…” He muttered aloud to no one but himself as he poured himself a mug, wrapping his freezing cold hands around the cup. The temperatures were dropping fast, and the fact that he was still in just the pair of boxers he had fallen asleep in didn’t help. Yuka-san had warned him that the heat in the building wasn’t the greatest, and as much as he preferred the cold, that didn’t mean he wanted to turn into a popsicle. Maybe he would grab a space-heater while he was out…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of his door being thrown open much too aggressively made Akaashi nearly jump out of his skin; it was a miracle he didn’t spill the steaming drink in his hands all over himself. He set the mug down on the counter, but before he had a chance to grab any sort of kitchen utensil to defend himself, Kuroo’s lanky form sauntered into his kitchen. Why Keiji had expected anything else, he wasn’t quite sure, but it took him a moment to calm the panic in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit ignoring my calls you ass, you better be aw-” Kuroo froze as he stepped into the kitchen. Akaashi just let out an annoyed huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My phone is still in my bedroom, Kuroo-san,” He deadpanned, “And it’s eight in the morning. Stop being so loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-Sorry,” Kuroo snickered a bit, scratching the back of his neck. Something about the grin on his face made Akaashi suspicious. Not even a moment later, he heard another pair of footsteps from the hallway, and a head of spiked black and grey hair poked into Akaashi’s kitchen alongside Kuroo,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kaashi! You’re not dead!” Bokuto grinned widely, but it dropped a moment later, “Oh, fuck! S-sorry!” He immediately covered his eyes. Akaashi furrowed his eyebrows a bit, before realization dawned on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was still in just his boxers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instinctively, his arms wrapped around his torso in an attempt to cover his exposed chest, and he ignored the feeling of heat creeping up the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-It’s fine. Give me a second,” He bowed his head slightly in an apology, quickly slipping into his bedroom to grab some actual clothes. He could vaguely hear the sound of hushed whispers through his door, but he pointedly ignored them, willing the bright red blush that surely tinted his cheeks to go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know why he felt so flustered by the fact that his neighbours had seen him in his underwear. He immediately shut the stupid little gremlin in the back of his mind up before it could provide him with an explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi quickly changed into a pair of track pants and a hoodie, checking his phone quickly before stepping back out. There were a total of sixteen missed calls from Kuroo, all within the span of ten minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, you put clothes on. Boring,” Kuroo commented in what had to be mock disappointment, a smirk pulling at his lips. Akaashi just shot him a glare, refusing to acknowledge the blush that threatened to return. Bokuto peeked through his fingers, dropping his hand once he’d confirmed that Akaashi was in fact clothed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Kuroo’s just like that. He’s being stupid, he means nothing by it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was so important you needed to call me sixteen times?” He arched an eyebrow, not making any comment on Kuroo’s words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna come over for dinner tonight? Netflix just got all the Saw movies, we’re gonna have a marathon!” Bokuto supplied, grinning widely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...That’s why you barged into my apartment?” Akaashi let out a soft huff, shaking his head. Why he thought the reason was anything important, he wasn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, duh.” Kuroo snickered a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I have to go out today, but I shouldn’t be long,” He reached for his coffee again, taking a sip of the burning liquid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, great!” Bokuto smiled widely, clapping his hands together, “Come over at like, 4? We’re gonna order a pizza too, so don’t eat dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who eats dinner before 4?” Akaashi commented, a small smile tugging at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Old people, obviously.” Kuroo teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m 20, Kuroo-san.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you read classic novels and watch old mystery movies for fun. You could be an 80-year-old man in disguise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just shot him an unimpressed look, taking another sip of his coffee.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Kaashi’s coming over at four,” was the first thing Kuroo said as Kenma stepped into the kitchen at almost noon, plopping himself down in one of their stools.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” He nodded a bit, reaching for the mug of coffee that Bokuto set down in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you can change your mind if you want. If you decide you don’t want to tell him, then we don’t have to,” Kuroo commented, shutting the fridge door. Kenma just let out a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His boyfriend had made a similar comment the night before, as he’d slipped into bed between Bokuto and Kenma. He understood that Kuroo was just trying to let him know that neither of them would be angry with him if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>change his mind, but at the same time, Tetsurou should've known better than anyone that Kenma wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t completely comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, Tetsu. I’m not going to change my mind,” Kenma assured, wrapping his fingers around the mug and relishing in his warmth. They were gonna need to pull out the space heaters pretty soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. But just know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He knows, bro,” Bokuto nudged Kuroo with his elbow, settling himself in the stool beside Kenma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” He assured, letting out a soft sigh, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, or a little worried. But I truly think we have nothing to worry about, and it’s only a matter of time before we slip up anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whaddya mean?” Bokuto furrowed his eyebrows, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… We spend so much time around Keiji anyways. We hang out with him almost every day, we all text him, he’s been introduced to our friends. We’ve gotten comfortable around him very fast,” Kenma shrugged a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. You’re right, but-” Kuroo began, but Kenma cut him off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, because it isn’t. I’m glad we’re close with him.” Kenma assured, “But everyone else who we’re that close with already knows about us. We’ve let our guard down around him, so it’s only a matter of time before one of us slips up and accidentally says something that tips him off about our relationship.” He took a small sip of his coffee, eyes trained on the granite countertop, “Keiji isn’t stupid. He’d put the pieces together on his own, if we didn’t tell him. But if he does that, it might make him think we don’t trust him or something… So I’d rather come out and tell him instead of making him figure it out himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think he’d be hurt? If he figured it out before we told him?” Bokuto tilted his head, and Kenma got the mental image of a confused puppy. The wide eyes only added to the resemblance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’d be hurt, necessarily… Keiji would understand why we did it. He’d understand that we were just being cautious, and I’m honestly pretty sure he wouldn’t even bring it up if he did figure it out solely because he’d worry about making us uncomfortable. But… I don’t know. I want to trust him with this. I want him to know that we trust him as much as he trusts us, I guess..” Kenma trailed off a bit. He knew he was explaining it awkwardly, but he also knew that his boyfriends would understand what he was trying to say. It was a product of dating for almost five years, and being friends long before that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t..” Kuroo trailed off, chewing on his lip as he tried to think of how to phrase his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanted to make sure I didn’t feel obligated to tell him just because you both wanted to. I know, Kuro,” Kenma’s lips pulled up into a small smile, “Don’t worry, that’s not why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” He nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head, “Just making sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll never oppose an idea if it means I can give you more attention,” Bokuto grinned, scooting his stool over so he could comfortably wrap an arm around Kenma’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop trying to be smooth, dork,” Kuroo scoffed, grinning a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m smooth as peanut butter,” Bokuto pressed a kiss to Kenma’s cheek, though his grin interfered a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smooth as peanut butter? That’s the simile you’re going with?” Kuroo arched an eyebrow, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up mister ‘warm as molten gold’!” Bokuto retorted, using his free hand to flip Kuroo off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you liked the poem, dipshit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma just let out a soft laugh, pulling his phone out of his pocket as his boyfriends bickered from either side of him.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Akaashi made it back to his dorm a little before four, immediately dumping his shopping bags in his closet. He’d managed to find a few things that he figured Bokuto would like - or at least, he hoped he liked them. He’d grabbed a few things for himself, not that he really had the money to be splurging on personal items, but he figured a couple new sweaters wouldn’t completely break his bank account.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d also grabbed himself a proper vape; it was much cheaper than buying disposables, and Keiji knew that slowly weaning himself would prove much more successful than attempting to quit cold turkey and then going through a single disposable in the span of a few hours when stress inevitably caused him to break his clean streak. He’d already used it quite a bit on his drive home, and he wasn’t exactly proud of it, but genetic predisposition to addiction and his general stress weren’t exactly easy to fight off. He pulled on a hoodie over his long sleeve shirt, switching out his contacts for a pair of glasses before he stepped out of his apartment and into the hallway. His neighbours wouldn’t mind if he was ten minutes early.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji barely got the chance to knock on his neighbours door before it swung open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you’re early,” Kuroo commented, a slight smirk pulling at his lips, “I didn’t know you were capable of doing anything but showing up perfectly on time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ten to four, Kuroo-san,” He deadpanned, “I just got home, I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.. I dunno. We could be super busy for all you know..” Kuroo trailed off, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji raised an eyebrow, glancing behind his neighbour and into the apartment. Kenma was curled up on their couch with his phone in his hand, and Bokuto was struggling to open a bottle of soda.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’re swamped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit harassing him, Kuro.” Kenma piped up from his spot on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo let out a slight huff, shaking his head, “Always ruining my fun,” He feigned a pout, finally stepping back to let Akaashi through the door, “Pizza’s on the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much was it? I’ll send you some money,” Akaashi settled himself on the empty armchair, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it! Our treat,” Bokuto spoke around the cap of the bottle, which was wedged between his teeth as he struggled to open it, “What the hell’s up with this thing?! Is it glued shut or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo’s laughter, barely muffled by his own hand over his mouth, gave Bokuto his answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a dick!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Akaashi directed his question at Kenma this time - Bokuto was too busy whacking Kuroo with one of their throw pillows, and Kuroo was cackling like a hyena, “You guys bought breakfast that first day, and you bought the alcohol and candy the other night…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You paid for the sushi when we went out,” Kenma pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I had to basically fight Kuroo for the debit machine to do it,” Akaashi let out a mix between a huff and a laugh, “I feel bad, having the three of you pay every time. Like I’m taking advantage of you or something..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma finally glanced up from his phone, studying him with curious eyes, “Clearly you aren’t, either that or you’re just bad at it. Otherwise you wouldn’t bring it up,” He joked, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Really, don’t worry about it. We go back and forth, it doesn’t matter if there’s a little bit of a difference. Plus, there’s three of us. Split it individually and it’s been pretty much equal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess..” Akaashi sighed, setting his phone down, “If you’re sure. But next time, it’s my treat. No arguments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal,” Kenma chuckled softly, sitting up to lean against the arm of the couch. Bokuto and Kuroo had finally stopped their fighting, plopping themselves down on the couch. For a moment, it was silent - Bokuto and Kuroo were both looking at Kenma as if they expected him to say something, and Kenma’s eyes were back on his phone. No one said anything, but Akaashi sensed an odd tension between the three of them that hadn’t been there a moment before. For a moment, he debated commenting on it; it was completely possible that Keiji was just reading too much into it, or that asking would make them uncomfortable. But before he made a decision, Bokuto spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s something we wanna tell you, Kaashi.” He straightened up, turning his eyes away from Kenma and towards the armchair where Akaashi sat. Kenma seemed to curl into his hoodie a little more, slipping his phone in his pocket as his eyes flicked towards Akaashi as well. Kuroo’s head turned immediately towards Bokuto - from where he sat, he couldn’t see his expression, but clearly it conveyed some sort of message to the owl-like man, because he addressed his boyfriend next, “May as well do it now, while we’re waiting for food!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clearly I’m missing something…” Akaashi commented, raising his eyebrows as he looked between his three neighbours, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?” For a split-second, Akaashi wondered if he had done something wrong. He almost felt like he was in trouble or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, everythings totally fine!” Bokuto assured, his lips pulling up into a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes. He almost looked nervous, “It’s just… well..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re dating,” Kuroo spoke up, cutting in when it seemed Bokuto was having trouble voicing his thoughts. Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his worry replaced immediately by confusion. He already knew that Kuroo and Bokuto were dating… why were they telling him again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You phrased that badly,” Kenma muttered, shaking his head, “When Kuro says we, he means all three of us. Him, Bokuto, and Me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi’s eyes widened for a moment as he processed the information. Bokuto and Kuroo were both silent, watching Kenma in surprise. As if they hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. Kenma, on the other hand, was watching Akaashi - gauging his reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have been for a while. Five years this winter.” Kuroo added on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akaashi spoke after a moment of silence, nodding a bit, “Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, looking at him in surprise, “That’s it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you want a different reaction…?” Akaashi questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no, but..” Kuroo trailed off, huffing softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You expected me to be more shocked?” He filled in, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you think it’s weird or something?” Bokuto piped up, looking at Akaashi with wide eyes.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Not particularly.” He shrugged, pulling his legs up beside him on the armchair.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You’re not offended that we hid it from you?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, almost looking.. Suspicious. As if he was studying Akaashi, searching for some sort of dishonesty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not,” He scoffed, “I understand why you did it, especially since we haven’t known each other that long. You never know how someone would react to that sort of thing. I’m happy you trust me with it, but I’m not hurt that you hid it or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you..” Kenma muttered, a small smile pulling at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… Okay then,” Kuroo chuckled a bit, “And to think, we were worried about how this was gonna go down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you think I would find it weird?” Akaashi asked, tilting his head.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Well, sorta,” Bokuto admitted, chuckling sheepishly, “A lot of people did, especially when we first started dating. We’ve lost a lot of friends because of it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but Akaashi beat him to it, “People are close-minded. They can be shitty sometimes. But if they really decided to drop you because of the people you love, then they don’t deserve to be in your life in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma let out a soft chuckle, as Kuroo and Bokuto both looked at him with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn, that’s profound…” Kuroo whispered dramatically, earning a laugh from Akaashi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Kuroo-san,” He rolled his eyes, “Thank you, for trusting me with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to thank us,” Kenma said, shaking his head as he reached for his phone again, “We’ve wanted to tell you for a bit now, but we just… didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand. But you don’t have to worry,” He smiled, “I’m not scared off that easily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously,” Bokuto grinned, “I mean, Tetsu followed you home the first time you met ‘im and you still agreed to hangout with us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t follow him home, quit saying that!” Kuroo huffed, punching Bokuto in the shoulder. A knock on the door interrupted their bickering before it could begin, and both of their heads shot up like a pair of dogs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pizza’s here!” Bokuto grinned, basically sprinting to the door. Kuroo shot up after him, a grin on his face as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. The tension that had previously permeated the room dissipated as quickly as it had come, and things were back to normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, as normal as they could be, with those two idiots around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kenma turned his attention back to his phone, stretching his legs out across the empty couch as his boyfriends basically mobbed the pizza delivery person, and Akaashi just listened to the ruckus at the door in mild amusement. After a moment, though, realization dawned on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does this mean I’ve been fourth wheeling this entire time?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im really glad that u guys enjoyed the last chapter, seeing so many of u commenting about how excited u were to see a new chapter made me really happy &lt;3 i was a bit worried about coming back out of nowhere, but i also knew i wasn't gonna just abandon this story. im just glad that those of u who were following it before are still around, cause i love reading ur guys' comments</p><p>as always, comments/kudos are very appreciated, i love u all and im so grateful for ur support &lt;3</p><p>**come yell at me on tumblr @kuidore**</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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